


Robots don't care where I've been

by muppy626



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor POV, Crime Fighting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description of Corpses, Murder Mystery, Non-Binary Chara, Non-binary protagonist, Organized Crime, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Robot Sex, Smut, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15470274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muppy626/pseuds/muppy626
Summary: The precinct was always the busiest on Mondays,“NOBODY FUCKING MOVE” The man snarled.You’d think it’d be a Friday or Saturday, but no, Mondays were the clusterfuck. “PUT DOWN YOUR GUNS-Maybe everyone just saves the crazy shit for when they have the most energy, at the start of my week. “OR I CUT HIM UP”Usually that crazy shit happened outside of the police station. Usually, I wasn’t stuck under my desk either.





	1. Monday Morning Blues

8:45 AM 

The precinct was always the busiest on Mondays,

“NOBODY FUCKING MOVE” The man snarled. 

You’d think it’d be a Friday or Saturday, but no, Mondays were the clusterfuck. “PUT DOWN YOUR GUNS-

Maybe everyone just saves the crazy shit for when they have the most energy, at the start of my week. “OR I CUT HIM UP”

Usually that crazy shit happened outside of the police station. Usually, I wasn’t stuck under my desk either. I heard rustling, then metallic clicking as multiple guns were placed on the marble floor. 

“ANYBODY TRIES SHIT” I could see a sliver of the action from the crack of space underneath my desk. Holding my breath, I laid myself flat on the floor. Two pairs of shoes were stumbling back and forth paired with some muffled grunting. My nose crinkled, I could smell the stench of sweat from here. “HE DIES.” There was another stench too, a burnt sweet smell, almost like vanilla. Holy shit, that was lithium crystals. 

What a fucking moment to drop a pencil Aseena.

It had been an unusually calm morning up until that point too.

*

7:45AM - Detroit city police department.

I sighed a heavy breath, holding a finger to my eye to stop it twitching. That’s the signal for a coffee break, that I’d been at it too long. 

I wandered over to the cafetieres, we’d ran out of the good stuff someone had bought a while ago. Now we had to deal with what we found in the back of the storage room that we hoped wasn’t expired. Gulping down half a cup before I even knew I’d poured it, I caught the faint whiff of stale beer from behind me. That must be Hank, my kindred spirit. I turned towards the second member of the under-eye bags club. 

“The coffee’s surprisingly decent today.” I began, pouring my second cup. 

“Yeah, some upmarket piss alright”

I stifled a snort, some coffee dribbling out of my mouth. He was wearing a jazzy Hawaiian shirt, paired with the same shabby jacket and straggly grey hair. 

“I didn’t come here to be romanced Hank.” I teased, grabbing a napkin. 

“My charm knows no bounds.” he drawled, stirring an absurd amount of sugar into his mug. “You want some?” he grunted, passing me some sweetener packets. 

“You know I never need sugar when you’re around.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re sweet enough,” I grinned, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up a little. 

“Fuck off Aseena.”

“Love you baby.” I crooned as he wandered back to his desk, rolling his eyes. 

 

Officer Oakley, all around good guy giggled as he filled his cup next to me. 

“One day you’re going to get him too riled up you know?”

“That’s the plan. One day that ice queen will be mine.” I replied. In moments like this I couldn’t help but remember my bambi rookie days. Out of everyone Hank, that worn down, grumpy asshole had whipped me into shape and made this place feel like home. I owed him for that. I’d heard that back in the day he was a vicious piece of shit, that red ice dealers practically shat themselves when he was around, but he’d lost his fire a long time ago. 

“You comin out this Thursday?”

My heart sank, he always invited me out to the bar with everyone else, but I always found a way to say no. 

I used to go, when things were different. 

“Nah man, I’m gonna…go home and catch up on some sleep.”

Chris’s eyes dimmed a little.

“Alright, alright. The offer’s always open.” 

He tipped his cap at me and walked back to his desk, and so did I.

 

Scattered across my desk were the Deviant files I’d been staring at all day. I glared at them, hoping they would spontaneously combust if I tried hard enough. None of it made any sense. Perfectly built androids suddenly going batshit, killing their owners, running away, taking hostages. 

Machines couldn’t do that, or shouldn’t do that. I should know, I studied this shit for over five years. They don’t just take over their own programming. Something was wrong with their code, the only problem is, is that there could be a thousand unique reasons why their breaks weren’t working. The restrictions on their AI that stopped them from going full HAL on everyone. Coding’s already complex enough, and androids were the greatest technological achievement of our time. They were just a little too complicated. 

It was far too early for this shit, my skin felt pulled taut over my face like a drum, not enough sleep.  
Across the room I could hear Officer Oakley trying to calm down some ass-hat over the phone, and another poor PO was trying to interview a drunk girl from the night before. The problem being she was struggling to keep her head from falling into her crotch, let alone give a statement.

‘RK200 #684 842 971

Prototype android given to Carl Manfred. A call was made to Detroit police on 07/11/38, after a suspected break-in. Officers called to the scene found the son Leo Manfred, with the android and Carl Manfred. Leo claims the android assaulted him and caused his father to have a cardiac arrest. Carl Manfred is in critical condition. 

The news droned on in the background near the ceiling, in a place that hadn’t seen a duster in years.

“Russia has been told to back down from the arctic by the US-”. 

The girl had just thrown up. I really needed to focus on reading these.

‘Cause of deviancy unknown, suspect shot on sight and disposed of.

A body thumped onto a wall.

“It ISN’T MINE.” A voice screeched. Well, someone’s staying for the bed and breakfast treatment. 

 

‘Android gifted to Manfred by Elijah Kamski, former CEO of Cyberlife. After-’

 

A muffled female voice sounded across the precinct over a loud-speaker. 

“ATTENTION, A 487 is in progress on 26th and Roosevelt in a suspected android theft.” 

 

‘Carl Manfred’s accidental paraplegic-’

 

A shadow blocked my view of the text. 

“Lieutenant Jones.” Said a voice as dull as a dropped manhole cover. 

“Yes sir?”

“My office, five minutes.”

Captain Fowler stood above me, in that same god awful light brown suit he wore. He’d been prowling around my desk like a cat that needed feeding more and more these past few weeks. The number of deviants was increasing, and I could feel that this wasn’t going to be a fun ‘talk’. 

I glanced up, giving a curt nod. 

“Sir.”

 

*

“Nobody’s going to do anything.” A voice said slowly. It was lieutenant Anderson, his usually gruff voice now soothing. 

“I WANT A CAR WAITING OUTSIDE.”

This guy was high as balls, on red ice. Not good. Depending on how long ago he’d taken it, it could be minutes before he fell into the hyper violent stage.

I needed to see more. My face in the dust, I padded forward on my hands and knees, holy shit why did I never clean under here. Inch by inch I peered around the desk. 

“Okay. We’ll do that...”

My blood chilled as I saw from behind, a curved blade bigger than my forearm pressed to someone’s neck. This son of a bitch had smuggled a machete in here. This could all go very, very wrong. 

I couldn’t shoot without risking the officer he had hostage, but a taser right between the shoulder blades might do it. The only thing was, the taser was on top of my desk, in my utility belt. Fuck.

I needed Hank to get this guy to take a few steps forward. 

“The car’s on its way, I promise. Where do you want it?” 

“Out the back entrance.” The man choked, like he was talking through syrup. That was probably the blue drool dribbling down his chin.

“Okay, we’ll do that, is there anything else I can do for you?” His eyes were rock steady. 

“Get these people to BACK OFF, I’m sick of it.”

Hank gestured with his head, and people began to slowly move away from their desks, back towards the entrance to the precinct. The man’s shoulders lowered slightly, but he was still hyperventilating. I reached a hand onto my desk, creeping my fingers forward.

“There we go. People not backing off huh?”

The man sniffed.

“They don’t leave me. The fuck. Alone.”

“That sounds rough.”

“People always-” The man spat on the ground. “Getting at me. My job, my wife”

“The old ball n chain huh?”

“She wouldn’t shut the fuck up, it wasn’t my fault.”

My hand touched the belt, dragging it across with my nails. “It wasn’t my fault!”

*

“Say hello to your new partner.”  
Captain Fowler threw a bulletin at me across the desk.

RK800 DETECTIVE AND LAB CONSULTANT MODEL - CONNOR

My stomach turned. Suddenly I was aware of the cool weight of the necklace underneath my shirt, the reminder. 

FEATURES:

REAL TIME SAMPLING AND ANALYSIS  
ADVANCED SPEECH AND SOCIAL SKILLS  
ADVANCED INTERROGATION TECHNIQUES  
PEAK PHYSICAL STRENGTH AND SPEED-

“He’s the most advanced Cyberlife prototype in existence.” Fowler’s eyes lit up, his attempt to lure me in was admirable. ”Autonomous and independent.”

“You want me to babysit…a talking toaster?” I asked, my mouth pinched. 

“We’ve had a 50% increase in cases of android deviancy in the past six months.” He frowned, his brows knitting together.

“So walking google here is going to help me with that huh?” I chuckled. 

“These are no longer standalone cases of factory errors. This is a phenomenon.” His eyes darted away from mine for a moment, and he cleared his throat. “We need to fight fire with fire, and Cyberlife has graciously offered their services.” I snorted, shifting in my chair. 

His chair creaked as he leaned back into it, puffing out his chest.

“What’s so funny detective?” He said, his eyes narrow and voice low. 

Wouldn’t you like to know. A sense of empty laughter threatened to break from my chest. 

“Nothing sir.” I replied, clipped.

After a moment of adjusting his cuffs, he continued. “You have a PHD in advanced robotics.” He leaned towards me, trying to catch my eye. I was too busy staring at his desk, at what was suddenly the most interesting potted plant I had ever seen. “You should be jumping at this opportunity!” He paused for a moment, changing tactics. “This could save lives.” My eyes immediately snapped to his, the cord of my necklace feeling tighter than before.

“Or it could take them.” I bit back, my voice rising. I could feel a familiar anger beginning to blossom in my chest. Captain fowler stood up, his fists on his desk.

“Look, I don’t care why you don’t like androids, it’s not my problem.” My knuckles turned white. “When you’re in my precinct, you follow orders.” I stood up, feeling my arms shaking. I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off, his hand hitting the air. “I don’t wanna hear another word. The droid’s arriving tomorrow, and you’re going to get along great, or so help me.” 

I turned away, squeezing my eyes shut. I took a shaky breath.

“Ok sir.”

*

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” Hank replied kindly. 

“If she’d just kept quiet…” He whispered, his voice trembling.

I nearly had the taser, it was only a few centimeters away. 

“She wouldn’t shut up?”

“She kept going on and on and on. About how I was a loser…”

“A loser huh?”

“Yeah, I’d just lost my job because of a fuckin android, and, and-” The belt caught itself against my headphones, and they fell. I grabbed them before they hit the floor, adrenaline surging through my body, holy fuck I’m an idiot. “So I took one and I, I beat the shit of it.” I pulled the taser out of the pocket, now I had to wait for the right moment. The blade was too close to their neck, I had to wait for them to relax, or there’d be a lot of blood to clean up. “I was angry you know? She found out and started screaming, bout how we couldn’t afford to pay for it.” 

I lay flat on the floor again, staring at his back. He was beginning to relax, his shoulders sinking. “I told her I would take care of it, but she said they would find out. She kept calling me a fuckin moron, and I told her to stop.” This guy killed his wife, he fucking killed her. “She got up in my face, telling me how useless I was. AM I USELESS NOW? HUH?” He shook, squeezing his arms tighter around his hostage. No, no no. I heard the sounds of spluttering, he was smothering them.

“You’re not useless, you stood up for yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I fuckin did.” Strangled noises came from someone’s throat, they were going to die, there was no time. I scrambled up as fast and as as quietly as I could and peered round, trying to catch Hank’s gaze. We locked eyes and I held up the taser, he understood. 

I came out from behind the desk, quietly standing up. I paced forward, using the sounds of gasping as cover. “I grabbed her head and I…” 

I fired the taser at his back. 

*

8:40 AM

Groaning, I kicked my feet up onto the desk and took a sip of my burning coffee, twiddling my favourite pencil in the other hand. It helped me to think, sometimes. I winced as I burned the same place on my tongue that I had days earlier from doing the same thing. Dammit. The pain made me drop the pencil onto the floor, and of course it rolled into the gross bit behind my PC that I never cleaned.

“Shit.” I put the coffee down and went down on my knees, grimacing as I stretched my arm past dust bunnies and sweet packets. Nope, not far enough. Trying to ignore how much I didn’t like putting my hands on this floor, I crawled underneath, finally having the reach to grab the fucker. I sighed, “there we go.” 

I grabbed the inside of my desk to pull myself up, and that’s when I heard the screaming.


	2. Hangover

I held my breath and squeezed the trigger, hoping no one would die today, images of slashed necks and pooling blood flashing through my head. 

An electric trill rang through the air as the two barbs lodged themselves in the man’s skin, contracting the muscles of his back like a wave. He yelled, dropping the machete. I held the taser steady, my knuckles white, I had to wait till he hit the floor. After a few seconds his arms shrivelled up, releasing the hostage. They collapsed onto their hands and knees, gasping. 

But the hostage taker didn’t fall. He started yelling, frantically trying to grab the wires in his back. He had eight million volts surging through him, that shouldn’t have been possible, what the fuck. He turned to me, blood pouring from his mouth where he’d bitten his tongue. Fuck fuck fuck. He saw me and his face contorted into a greater degree of rage. 

He started stumbling towards me, his limbs almost failing him. I kept my finger pressed on the trigger, teeth locked and sweat dripping down my forehead. He would stop, he had to stop. He came closer, I kept pressing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hank help up, holy shit, Officer Oakley, running him out of the building as fast as he could. Hank assumed I had this in the bag, and I thought I did too. 

Until he ripped out the barbs. 

He heaved like a man coming up for air, his lips pulled back over his blue stained teeth. He threw them to the ground, before heading to grab the machete again. 

My gun was on the table. I sprinted to my desk, seeing my glock peeking out from my belt. I grabbed it, snapping back the safety as I felt a gust of air behind my back. I ducked, the machete swinging past my head, lodging itself in the wood with a dry crunch. How was he this fast? 

I rolled forward, trying to gain some distance before he swung again. Rough hands grabbed my neck, crushing my windpipe as he threw me onto the desk. I wheezed, trying to find air as sharp pain cracked through my body. He held me down with one hand as he gouged the machete out of the desk, taking a swing at me from above his head. 

I kicked him in the groin, seeing him falter back a few steps and loosen his grip. I used my chance, rolling onto the floor, my head pounding in waves. I ran towards the desks in front of me, reaching for a lamp and lobbing it at his head. Bullseye, it hit his face with a dull thud, stunning him for a moment. I picked up a small baseball trophy from somebody’s kid, sorry, and did the same thing. It connected with his head, and he let out a cry that became drawn out into a screech, his eyes squeezing shut. Still screaming, he ran towards me even faster, like a lion mid pounce as I raced around the other side of a desk. I picked up an office chair to use as a shield, seconds before he cut the machete into its back, but it was too blunt to cut through the plastic. He impotently tried to yank the blade out, pulling me forward. The corners of my mouth turned up as I had an idea.

Realizing I had control of him, I pressed my foot back, launching myself forward with a grunt. I only had to last a few more seconds, they would come, I just had to pin him down, just for a moment. His face went pale as he realised what I was doing, but it was too late. I pushed him into the aisle and he tripped. Before I could get dragged down with him I let the chair go, and I watched as his head bounced off the floor with a squishy thud. 

Adrenaline thundered through my body as I ran back to my desk, finally grabbing my fucking gun. I turned to raise it at the bastard, hearing the clunk of heavy boots as my colleagues marched back into the office. There was a symphony of snaps and clicks as they readied their guns and I felt a wash of relief. 

“He’s on the floor, I knocked him over.” I shouted, breathless as I went over. Someone dashed forward, surrounding him. My mouth went dry as I saw that his body was limp, blood trickling from the side of his head. Someone placed two gloved fingers to his neck and I held my breath. 

“He has a pulse.”

*

I’ve had shitty mornings before this, spilled coffee, being spat at, being called on my days off, but this?

This really took the fucking cake. Now those mornings seemed like a walk in the park, compared to nearly having your dick chopped off by a coked-up maniac. 

The guy was still alive, somehow, and had been taken to the ER. I suggested they handcuff all of his limbs to the gurney unless they wanted to experience the worst rodeo bull ride ever. 

A paramedic checked me for damage as I perched on my desk, the precinct back to normal and bustling around me. I hissed as she placed her hands on my back, the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and that sucked.

“I don’t feel anything too bad, and if things were broken you would know, but you’ll still need to get some x-rays. You shouldn’t drive either. ” She said, examining my back. I groaned, my head rolling forward. All I wanted was to go home, have a cup of coffee with enough sugar to give me diabetes and to not talk to anyone. She shot me a look, “he slammed you onto the desk and strangled you, you are lucky to have not been seriously hurt.” She replied, her lips puckering. 

I paused, looking down and fiddling with my cuffs.

“You’re right, it could have been a lot worse.” I cleared my throat. “What’s your name?” She sat back a little, her brows knitting together.

“Carol.”

“Well, thanks Carol.” I muttered, meeting her gaze. She sat up at my words, giving me a curt nod.

“You’re welcome, we’ll give you a trip to the hospital.” I saw Officer Oakley walking with a paramedic, talking, before leaving him to sit back at his desk. I stood up. “Hey, I’m not done here.” Carol tugged me back down. My eyes darted back and forth between them. 

“Can I go see him? He was taken hostage, he’s my colleague.” The words rushed out of my mouth.

“In a minute.” I sighed impotently, leaning back and forth to try and catch his gaze. “I need you to sit still for me.” I stopped, seeing Oakley rub his eyes as he slouched into his chair.

“HEY!” I called, raising my chin. A few around me flicked back their heads. “HEY OAKLEY!” His head popped up, his eyes finding mine and smiling. He headed over to me. “You okay?” 

“Yeah I’m fine, just a few bruises.” He rolled his shoulders, wincing. “We were taking this guy to a cell when he pulled out a machete and threatened me. Hank nearly talked him down, but he got excited and tried to…strangle me. I’m thanking my lucky stars that someone was there to tase him.”

“That was me.” I replied, raising my eyebrows and clicking my tongue. ”You sure you’re fine? He was choking you, he had a machete to your neck. That’s some scary shit.” He shook his head, scratching his jaw.

“It was you?”

“Yep, I dropped a pencil under my desk and he didn’t see me.” I said quickly, waving away the questions. I didn’t know it was you either, until he let you go.” Oakley’s brow creased as he stared into nothing, the realization dawning on him. 

“They said the taser didn’t work. That he pulled it out and went for someone…You’re the one who beat the crap out of him with the office chair!” He exclaimed, pointing at me and grinning. 

“I was just lucky he was a dumbfuck.” He slapped his thigh, laughing as I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Well you’re just fine aren’t you, you ass.” I muttered under my breath. 

* 

8:45 AM - Tuesday

The shrill ringing of the phones, the click clack of work shoes. You’d never have known that this place had been a complete shit show yesterday. Things worked like that around here, there’s this sense of an unstoppable forward momentum. More criminals to arrest, more people to deal with. 

More androids to catch, there’s no time to catch your breath. 

I hissed through my teeth as I leaned back experimentally in my chair. Nope, not gonna happen. The universe was finally forcing me to have good posture, shit. I was lucky to have no fractures, no broken bones, just horrible bruising. At least the painkillers were- kind-of - doing their job. A good thing too, an incident like yesterday’s was a bureaucratic bitch, and I had only just started the paperwork. I checked my watch, and a wave of unease coursed through my stomach like nausea. It was due to arrive in just half an hour.

Connor, that was what they called it. I took a deep breath in, stilling my hands and resting them on the desk. This was stupid, it’d been a year since…I’d laid that to rest. I stood up, straightening my sleeves. I didn’t have time for that, especially not today. I checked my watch again, I had to make this quick. 

This droid would only be my partner for a few weeks at most, until Fowler realised ‘Connor’ wasn’t going to fix what was Cyberlife’s fault. It’ll be over, and then…I’ll be done. 

Yeah, I’ll be done. 

I knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

“Captain Fowler…”

*

“You can’t be serious.” He stopped in his tracks and stared at me, eyes widening. I sat quietly, my hands in my lap.

“Unfortunately, I am.” I replied, my voice surprisingly steady. I waited patiently for his reaction, and he shook his head.

“Why? You have so much potential, you’re one of my best detectives.” I hesitated, a wash of sadness came over me at his words, it was a waste. 

“I don’t think this is the best place for me.”

“Why’d you say that?” His eyes darted back and forth. “Is somebody?” 

“No, no, nothing like that.” I heard him inhale, pausing before he asked.

“Why?” My lips pressed into a hard line, and I chose my words carefully.

“Something…Changed.” A coldness hit my core. It was hilarious to think I could try and explain any of it to him. Although I wanted to, desperately. He sat down in his chair heavily with a creak. “I’m thankful for everything this place has done for me, the people. I’m grateful to you sir. I don’t regret my time here.” He continued to shake his head, eventually pressing his palms to his temples.

“You do realise you can’t quit until this case is solved.”

“Of course sir.” He slumped into his chair, groaning. 

“Guess I’ll have to start finding your replacement.”

“I understand.” The buzzer suddenly went off on his desk, his assistants voice coming through.

“I have to get to a meeting, we’ll discuss the details of this…later.” He swung his coat over his shoulder, avoiding my eyes. I got to my feet, fiddling with my shirt buttons.

“Thank-you sir.” I grunted, holding the door open for him. God this was uncomfortable. He looked at me briefly, swallowing, before heading out of the door. 

I scurried back to my desk, my face crinkling. Well, at least it was done. Now, to catch deviants. I logged on to see the new cases coming in, my brows knitting together as I leaned towards the screen. 

“SUSPECTED DEVIANT ACTIVITY AT THE EDEN CLUB. WITNESSES REPORTED A VIOLENT ASSAULT FROM AN ANDROID TOWARDS A PATRON, NO CHARGES FILED BY VICTIM.”

“ALICE WILLIAMS KIDNAPPED BY HOUSEHOLD ANDROID, MODEL RK600, OWNER - TODD WILLIAMS.”

“REPORTS OF MALFUNCTIONING ANDROIDS AT WEST-SIDE WAREHOUSE STORAGE FACILITY, ROBOTS SHOWING UNUSUAL-”

“Detective Jones.” My body tensed, my breath stopping for a moment. 

“Jesus christ” I muttered in exasperation. “You can’t sneak up on someone like that!” I swivelled in my chair, my jaw clenched. Ha ha let’s sneak up on the detective who was nearly stabbed. “Gavin I’m gonna kick your-”

“My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.” My stomach clenched. Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry readers! Aseena and Connor finally meet, and things only get more interesting from here.


	3. Meet n Greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor.exe is now online.

In front of me stood an all American boy, the kind you’d see starring in a West End production of Oklahoma.

“Uhuh.” I replied, my mouth slightly slack. 

“I’ve been created to aid officers in investigations concerning Deviant androids. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His voice was husky, like feeling velvet against the grain. He held out his hand to me, eyes blinking rapidly. I cleared my throat, standing up and wiping away the sweat I didn’t even know had gathered on my palms. 

“Sure.” I grunted, my eyes flitting from his eyes to his hand. I reached out slowly to grasp it, as if he might explode. Smooth silicone skin brushed against mine, his handshake was firm. I looked into his eyes, seeing the serial number RK800 tattooed across his nearly florescent blue iris.

“Huh, I thought I was too old for a Ken doll.” I said to myself. 

“I’m sorry?” He cocked his head, a small tuft of hair falling across his forehead. The blue LED on the side of his temple swirled as he surveyed me, flashing yellow for a moment.

“Nothing sweet cheeks.” I smirked. “So how does this go Wall-E?” I shoved my hands into my pockets, slouching. “How do you plan on ‘assisting’ me, exactly?” I said as I stepped towards him, my voice low. He steadfastly held my eye. 

“I have a range of forensic capabilities, including on site sample analysis. I can compute important information relevant to a case at an incredibly fast rate-”

“So you’re saying I’m slow?” I cut him off, the corner of my mouth twitching upwards, I moved closer. Credit to him, he stood his ground, his gaze alert. 

“There is only so much data a human can process. I can be of great assistance to you.” He was technically correct, if not tone deaf about it.

“Is digging holes part of your skill set?” His brow creased,

“If an investigation required it, I could provide a perfectly suitable trench.” I bit back a smile and nodded.

“You can be of great assistance to me, by staying out of the way and doing exactly as I say, do you understand?” His eyes narrowed slightly. 

“I will f-”

“Great!” I beamed, rubbing my hands together. “Let’s get started, you can take the desk opposite mine. By the time it takes me to take a shit you should have read all of the case files.” He opened his mouth to speak but I was already on my way, there was no way I was letting google here get the last word. 

I splashed cold water on my face, drying my face on paper towels and sighing. That had gone better than expected, considering the last time I was that close to an android it was trying to kill me. I shivered at the thought, feeling my chest grow tight. I grasped my hand over the shape underneath my shirt. “I’ve got this.” I muttered to myself. I have my shit together. I brushed the hair out of my face, ignoring how pale I looked in the mirror, before heading back.

*

Detective Jones seemed to have some behavioural issues, but that wasn’t uncommon in interactions between humans and androids. As long as it didn’t interrupt the investigation, micro-aggressions were unimportant. I logged into the computer opposite their desk to download the case files. Across the room someone dropped a coffee mug, it slowed in time. Dozens of faces, details and androids flashed through my memory, images of death and Thirium.

The mug smashed onto the floor with a crash. I sat back in my chair with my hands in my lap, surveying the environment. Police androids lined the walls in standby, an officer with a wide gait walked past the desk. Immediately I sensed traces of sweat, powdered sugar and gunpowder. I looked across and saw Jones’s desk, papers in disarray. 

Perhaps it would be beneficial to investigate, to understand their personality better. It might result in an improved working relationship. I took a snapshot of the desk: Xylitol wrappers, a sweet tooth. A cork-board with many pictures, parents, police academy graduation, and a younger detective Jones at an android processing plant not dissimilar to a Cyberlife factory. There was one final image laid front and centre. It was dated over a year ago, Jones in a bar with other members of the precinct, celebrating. I reached out to touch silky fabric, a medal of valour was pinned below it.

Someone loudly cleared their throat behind me. 

“Ahem.” I turned to see detective Jones, hands on their hips, face twisted into an unpleasant expression. “Don’t touch my shit. Especially not that.” They lightly swatted my hand away, their eyes beady. 

“I’m sorry detective Jones, I meant no offense.” I replied in my most soothing tone. 

“Well, it was taken you plastic schmuck.” 

“Technically I am a carbon fibre alloy schmuck, to call me plastic would be derivative.” Jones folded their arms, jutting out their jaw.

“Get the hell away from my desk.” Jones watched me as I quickly sat down in my own seat, lips pursed. A silence descended as they tapped away at their keyboard, becoming absorbed in the task. 

“You have a PHD in robotics.” They looked up, their gaze probing.

“Well done, you read my file.” They replied matter of factly, turning back to the screen. 

“What fueled your interest in the subject?” Jones paused, their eyes looking me up and down before shrugging. 

“You ever watched mecha anime?”

“Anime…” I took a few milliseconds to research it. “A style of hand-drawn and computer animation originating in, and commonly associated with, Japan.” 

“Yeah, thanks for the definition” they sighed, “so have you ever seen any mecha?”

“No, but I would like to, it looks…fascinating.” Jones chuckled.

“What’s amusing?” I asked.

“It’s ironic that you’d be interested, considering.” They gestured to all of me.

“I’m interested in many kinds of human media, especially in regards to how people feel about artificial life. I think it could be helpful to me.” Their brow creased, their face softening for a moment. 

“So you can make humans like you?” 

“So I can understand them.” In a flash the softness was gone, replaced by hard edges. Their eyes darted away for a moment, lost in thought. I continued, “if you have a passion for the subject, why do you show signs of aggression towards me? I would have thought the opposite.” Jones licked their lips, leaning over the desk and forming their hands into a steeple.  
“Because I was only told yesterday that you’d be landing on my ass, I have criminal androids on the loose that I need to catch, but instead.” They clicked their tongue, shaking their head. “I’m sitting here with a droid that wants to ask me 20 questions.”

“Oh.” I scratched the back of my neck, looking away.

“Yeah, oh.” The silence descended once more. I had fulfilled all of my orders thus far, so I would simply wait. I shifted in my seat, taking a coin out of my pocket and dancing it between my fingers, balancing it on my fingertips. After a few minutes Jones suddenly stood up, fixing the collar of their jacket. 

“There’s been a knarly homicide on 49th street, a Carlos Ortiz.” They looked to me expectantly. “You coming?” 

“Of course.” I stiffened, sliding the coin back into my pocket.

*

“Don’t touch anything till I say so, alright?” Connor stood at the door to the living room in a PPE suit, his head darting back and forth as he looked around the room. 

“Understood detective.” He nodded at me confidently with his electric blue eyes, standing calmly with his hands held in front of him. He watched me expectantly like a puppy that had just learned how to sit. I turned, watching the choreographed routine of people taking evidence from the crime scene, the click of flashing bulbs and the hurried hum of discussions. My shoes rustled in the protective gear as I walked towards the center of it all. 

A large man in his 40’s laid limp against the wall, the tiled floor covered with so much blood it resembled an abattoir. Directly above him was a hole in the dry wall surrounded by cracks, straight skid marks of red marking his slide down the wall. Footprints led out of the puddles, then suddenly stopped, as if they’d vanished. I spotted Abbie, the coroner, with her forensic kit. 

“Reminds me of my last break-up.” I said across the room. She looked up, and I could feel the withering gaze beneath her suit.

“Based on his temperature and mass, I would have estimated the time of death to be several days ago.” I stepped closer towards the body that resembled a pin cushion more than a person. My face crinkled as the stench of decomposition came at me like a wave the closer I got, I really fucking hoped this didn’t ruin my leather jacket. 

“Would have?” I replied, my voice muffled behind my plastic mask.

“Look at the eyes and the surrounding blood, the centre desiccation.” She bent down carefully, pointing with her gloved index finger. The pools surrounding the victim has started to become gelatinous, but the centre of them were still raw. With difficulty, she pulled down the taut skin under his right eye, “See this?” I held my breath reflexively, it’d become an instinct in this job, as I bent forward next to her. He stared vapidly into the distance, his face twisted into the ‘grimace of death’ I’d come to know very well. I tensed, noticing how the whites of his eyes were stained completely with red, like a demon. 

“Red ice…” I muttered.

“Yup.” She pulled out a q-tip, taking a swab from underneath the cornea. His eye weeped with a small squish, I recoiled, letting out a small whine.

“I’ll never get used to that.” I pressed my fist to my nose. “Fuckin gross.” She shook her head. 

“You big baby, did you know when people die they also lose control of their bowels?” She said chirpily, I rolled my eyes. 

“Yes I did know dickwad, thank-you so much.” I sneered playfully, she chuckled. 

I’ll have to run toxicology tests to be certain, but it makes sense considering the rate of rigor mortis, he’s completely rock solid.” She experimentally tried to pull down the skin of his cheek, but it didn’t wanna budge, it was like plastic. 

“I remember you saying it speeds up the process, like cocaine.”

“Good memory.” She pressed a small plastic baggie closed with a rustle. “I’ve seen more bodies like this in the past few weeks than I have in the past six months.”

“More and more people are getting addicted.” She hummed in agreement. “Anything else so far?”

“No fingerprints, no DNA.” I tilted my head as I counted the deep, dark slashes across his face and chest. Large, hand shaped bruises were marked across his face and neck, a deep purple colour to the point of nearly being black. Yep, definitely like my last break-up. “What we did find though, were traces of silicone.” Her eyes moved to Connor for a moment, narrowing. “The same type of silicone used to make the skin of certain android models.” I stopped dead in my tracks, shoulders rigid.

“So you’re saying…” Her expression was grave.

“What’s even more confusing is that this guy didn’t even own one, never even rented.” My mouth went dry. 

“So this was a droid” I spoke calmly over the hammering in my chest. “Because it’s unlikely that a stabbing like this wouldn’t leave any evidence behind. Professional hits are usually a bullet to the head and chest.” I turned my fingers into a gun and gestured towards the relevant parts of the body. “Or, blunt force trauma if it’s on the cheaper side of things.”

“So this was a crime of passion.” Connor had appeared right behind me, again, and I flinched. 

“For fucks sake, are you the terminator or something? Stop sneaking up on me.” I stood up, throwing him a dirty look. “Yes, if you stab someone you have to really want to. It’s messy, difficult, and the person’s gonna fight back. This is just so…unheard of, for an droid to go this far. It could of course been a pre-meditated killing, but why not clean up after yourself?” I turned, seeing an overturned table. There were a number of objects smashed to pieces, small numbered placards placed next to them. I put my hands on my hips, looking down at a smashed candle. Connor followed, the LED on the side of his brain spinning furiously. 

“Normally Deviants are never this unstable.” I bent down to look at the broken glass. “The victim threw this, he was trying to defend himself against the killer.” Connor raised his eyebrow, offering a questioning gaze.

“Might I examine the crime scene, to place together a time line?” I sucked my teeth, staring at him for a moment. His posture was stiff, an air of readiness about him, it was almost cute. 

“Let’s see if you meet the hype bad boy, impress me.” I could have sworn his eyes lit up for a moment, before he walked briskly to the nearby window. I could see the lenses of his eyes twist and shift like a camera. He paced around a single spot, where the window had been opened.

“The killer escaped through here, several cotton and nylon fibers were caught on the frame. Black and dark blue.” I leaned forward, examining the latch.

“You’re right, it was opened from the inside.” I smacked my lips together. “What happened before that?” Connor scanned the rest of the living room, stepping forward slowly. He knelt down towards the corner of a bookcase.

“According to my UV readings, there was a small amount of blood here, but it was wiped away.” I cocked my head.

“Huh, they didn’t bother to clean that big mess, so why here?.” His eyes trailed the floor, 

“more blood dripped,” He traced his finger across “The killer stood in this spot for a few minutes.” He stood up, heading towards the front door. Following him into the front hall, I could hear the loud chatter of the people outside, the flashes of cameras through the shut blinds. “The killer was let in.” I peered forward, the lock was in perfect condition.

“If you were high as balls on red ice, why would you let anyone in?” I muttered. Connor stepped back and forth, 

“they both headed to the kitchen,” He raced through. “The killer stabbed Ortiz before he had time to react.” He frowned. “But…”

I stared at a splattering of blood on the lino. “They didn’t finish the job here.” I chimed in. “Because the killer was playing with their food.” I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheek. “They stabbed once initially, perhaps they wanted to draw out the experience,” a chill ran down my spine “They were enjoying themselves.” I looked to Connor, his brows knitted together, his LED spinning yellow. He straightened up, and it returned to its calm hue of blue. 

“Ortiz stumbled back, in shock, throwing anything he could get his hands on to maintain some distance.”

“Mhhm,”I tapped my foot, come on robo-cop, show me what you got. “You say you can analyze samples, so tell me if the killer was hit with anything.” He scanned the messy floor leading into the living room, it only took him a few seconds to respond. 

“Here, on the metal toaster,” It was dented, “the traces of silicone skin found earlier. This is facial skin from a RK400 model android, female. They’re typically bought for childcare and the household.” 

“So he didn’t miss.” I spotted the body in direct line of where we stood. “But it didn’t stop her. It’s safe to say she’s augmented, an object of that size hitting her in the shnoz barely did her any damage.” Connor nodded, 

“From there it’s simple, she pinned him with her hands and shoved him against the wall.”

“Hard enough to break it.” 

“This was easy for her, is there a possibility of multiple augmentations?” I breathed out hard.

“It’s common to give androids in illegal fighting rings these kinds of upgrades, increased strength,” I eyed the hole in the wall, “durability, but for a housekeeper model?” Connor placed a hand on his chin, his head coming up.

“If you could maintain the external integrity of the model while applying the upgrades, it would be difficult to differentiate from an ordinary RK600. Perhaps that was the intension.” My mind flashed, pieces starting to come together. 

“Somebody’s made a hitman.” I clenched my fists. “One that enjoys killing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Connor and Aseena get to their first crime scene. I've used a lot of the background info from the game, but it's diverged massively from the original details and events.
> 
> Thank-you so much for your kudos and for giving this a read! I appreciate it endlessly.


	4. Raindrops

I wolf whistled as Hank came into the living room in what was essentially a head to toe shower cap. His bushy brows came together to scowl at me. No matter how tired or stressed I was, his grumpy presence always seemed to lighten my mood. 

“You can take me out to dinner later,” he drawled. He glanced down at the body, sucking air through his teeth. “Not a good way to go. What’s the story?”

“Carlos Otiz received a nasty home visit, he opened the door for someone and got stabbed twenty times in the chest.” I rubbed my thumbs over my knuckles as Connor stepped forward,

“It was an HK600 android,” He said, his husky voice firm. Hank did a double take, spotting the arm band and RK800 emblazoned across his jacket. “Female. After the android was let in there was a struggle in the kitchen.” Hank’s lip curled as his eyes bore into him. I cleared my throat, keep it in your pants for later. I bent forward and pointed to the mass bruising and skid mark on the wall with my pinkie, 

“and then she slammed him up against the wall here in the living room, finishing him off.” I moved away from Ortiz, wrinkling my nose. Even after a few good years on the force, my gag limit for up close corpse smell was only a few seconds, I’m not superman. “She escaped through the back window. We still don’t know why she was let in. Also, he was off his rocks on ice at the time.” Hank stared at the body with his signature frown and thinly pressed lips. 

“An android?” He said flatly. 

“Yeah, we’re still trying to figure that one out.” 

“Plastic fuckers pulling new shit every week.” Connor held out his hand politely,

“Lieutenant Anderson, my name is Connor, I’m the android sent by CyberLife.” 

“Oh geez, you can’t be serious.” Hank droned, leaving him hanging. 

 

“He’s here to hunt Deviants and help us find evidence. You can throw spitballs at him later.” I said coldly, ignoring the dirty look he gave me as I headed over to the book-case.

“Over here, the killer stood in the same spot for several minutes and cleaned up some blood off of the wood, no idea why.” Hank’s face relaxed, getting into cop mode.

“Maybe it has something to do with these vanishing footprints. It would be hard to remove shoes without spreading evidence.” My brows furrowed,

“what if they laid down something they could walk across? Like sheet plastic.” I turned my head to Connor, 

“I’ll see if anything matches that description.” He nodded. The noise of the people outside died out as I watched him bend over the stretch of floor, wondering what he saw in those lenses of his. He licked his lips as his pupils kept changing diameter. I watched silently, waiting for his conclusion. After a final tilt of his head, he stood up.

“There are no traces of anything out of the ordinary.”

“Great, thanks for the help Jeeves.” Hank rumbled.

“Wait.” I stopped him, hand in the air “that makes sense.” I sat down on my haunches, thinking hard. “When you kill someone, the first thing you wanna do is get rid of the evidence if not the body.” I said calmly. “You don’t have fingerprints, or DNA to leave behind, but what do you have on you?” Hank opened his mouth to respond.

“Blood, the victim’s blood.” Said Connor, his voice growing in confidence. 

“Which means…” The answer was staring us in the face, I could feel it.

“The android changed clothes.” Hank grunted. There was a gleam in Connor’s eyes.

“The android changed clothes here, in this spot, before leaving in a different outfit and it’s the one thing they didn’t want us to know.” 

Not bad kiddo. “Which means this was pre-meditated, it was a hit. It was just made to look random,” I worried my lip between my teeth, “what the hell did this guy do?”

 

*  
11:23 PM

“What part of ‘stand there and don’t move’ didn’t you understand?” I shivered as I thumped the door shut, water running down the back of my neck. 

“I was simply following my programming detective Jones, my purpose is to investigate.” Connor slid into shotgun as I started the engine, sitting confidently with that rim-rod posture of his. 

“Isn’t it also part of your programming to follow orders? To follow supervision?” I turned on the wipers as Detroit’s infamous rain soaked the windows. 

“When it is appropriate, yes.” I sighed, my hands gripping the worn leather steering wheel a little tighter. 

“I’m curious Connor, how old are you?”

“’Old’ is the incorrect concept to apply.” I gritted my teeth, “as I cannot age. I have been online and running for 14 hours.”

“So your career spanning 14 hours of total experience, is enough to decide whether or not to get on my nerves?” He blinked, small droplets of rain had gathered on his lashes. I snapped on the heating to full blast. 

“I will try my best to be as co-operative as possible during all investigations, my apologies.” I paused, eyeing him up for a moment before I gave him a curt nod. We sat silently for a moment as I pulled out of the driveway.

“Good.” I clicked my tongue, “You didn’t do badly for 14 hours of existing, it takes a bit longer for the rest of us.”

“Thank-you, I was created to accomplish my mission as efficiently as possible.” I raised my eyebrows,  
“Mission huh? That’s intense.” I smirked. “What happens when you achieve your objectives?” 

“I’ll be sent back to Cyberlife for disassembly, so new and improved models may be made in the future.” A chill ran through my chest at how casually he said that. 

“That’s it?” I said, my voice flat. I turned my head for a moment, looking at him disapprovingly. 

“Yes, that is the optimum outcome.” His eyes were blank as they met mine, water covering the freckles they’d painted across his cheeks.

“Well that’s just no fun now is it?” I stopped at a red light, lounging back in my seat and popping a piece of gum into my mouth. He stared at the dashboard, eyebrows creasing for a moment. “Anyway, once we fill out the paperwork back at the station we can start looking into persons of interest.” He sat up, back into Robocop mode.

“I’ve completed the forms,” His LED flashed, “Ortiz worked the night shift at a Cyberlife supply warehouse near the docks.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“I suggest we head there immediately and question his colleagues.”

“Woah slow down their buddy, you filled out the forms? I’m the detective on duty, only I’m allowed to do that.”

“I’ve kindly been assigned the authority by the DPD at Cyberlife’s request, would you like the address?” 

“Oh who’s authority was this?” I exclaimed. “Christ, I’m- I’m just gonna ignore how unethical that is. Fine, give me the address.” 

*

 

Detective Jones shot me a look of suspicion as we ran through the downpour, their coat pulled over their head.  
It seemed we were both becoming accustomed to new circumstances. We passed the bright spotlights of forklifts as their pistons huffed Thirium supplies into adjacent trucks. Workers yelled obscenities through the darkness, brand new android models in plastic wrap being hauled from iron storage containers. There was one man in a high visibility cagoul holding neon orange sticks, guiding a beeping truck to park. Grimacing through the torrent of rain, detective Jones held up a laminated ID.

“Hey,” They yelled. The man turned his head, waving a stick at us aggressively before focusing on the truck again.

“Alright, it’s not like we’re standing here or anything!” Jones frowned, turning to me. “You must have your temperature sensors turned off huh?” They shouted through the rain. 

“I see no reason to have them on.” I replied, holding my hand above my forehead to keep my vision clear. 

“I guess I’m jealous, I’m cold as fuck right now.” The roar of the truck’s engine came to a stop, and the man headed over to us.

“What?” 

“I’m detective Jones from the DPD.” The man snorted, “can we go inside please?” 

“Sure lady.” 

*

As Jones aggressively shook the water out of their coat, I detected traces of nicotine and a French cologne. 

“Mr.Romano, you’re the manager on site today?” He grunted. “Good. Also, I use they pronouns just for reference.” Their voice was calm, practised. 

“Oh, you’re one of those.” He smacked his lips, dragging out the last word. Jones stopped folding their coat, head turning to look him straight in the eye.

“How well do you know Carlos Ortiz?” The cheap office chair creaked as Jones sat heavily into it, posture wide. They weren’t referring to him in the past tense, interesting. This was the interrogation technique used to garner more honesty from the suspect.

“He’s an asshole, what about it?” Romano drawled in what I placed as a thick Jersey accent. He hadn’t bothered to take off his hard hat and yanked open a draw to pull out a thick cigar and lighter, next lifting his feet onto his desk. Despite the rain, I discerned from several feet away that this man had not showered for several days. Jones grinned, snapping open a notepad.

“That’s great,” He leaned in to light it, “cus he’s dead.” He froze.

“Wait…What?” Jones stared down, writing furiously.

“And I think you might have just made my job a lot easier.” 

“He-he’s dead? What happened?”

“Oh, you know.” Jones waved a hank carelessly, “He was stabbed to death, over twenty times.” They muttered nonchalantly, still writing. I watched as Romano’s eyes widened as they darted between Jones and the notepad.

“You don’t think I-“ He gulped, taking his feet off the desk.

“Mr.Romano, where were you between the hours of 8-10PM this evening?” Their head snapped up, pen poised, stone-faced. Romano clutched his chest, cigar still his hand as sighed in relief. 

“I was here, you can ask everybody, there are cameras too.” Jones pursed their lips,

“Alright, we’ll make sure of that.” They turned the page. “How long did he work here?”

“Nearly ten years.” 

“Did he make any enemies in that time? Were there any workplace disputes?” I asked, feeling Jones’s eyes on me. Romano finally lit his cigar, less confidently this time.

“He rubbed a lot of people the wrong way but,” He breathed in, eyes darting to the arm band on my jacket. “People wouldn’t kill him for that, he was just a douche who kept to himself for the most part.”

“How well did you know him?” Jones crossed their legs, pressing their knuckles to their bottom lip. Romano’s head remained still as he shot Jones a sidelong glance. 

“I…talked to him from time to time, we’d shoot the shit, ya know?” He crossed him arm in front of himself. It was for a fraction of a second, but his upper lip twitched. 

“You’re lying Mr.Romano.” Startled, he sat up. “Did you know androids can view time at a tenth of its speed?” 

“What’s the bot talking about?” He said to Jones, eyes narrowing at me. Jones met my eyes, an eyebrow raised, but remained silent. 

“There’s a phenomenon called micro-expression, have you heard of it?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jones smirking. 

“The fuck are you on about?” He growled.

“When people lie, they often exhibit facial ticks called ‘micro-expressions’, that give away their true intensions. Just now, when detective Jones asked you how well you knew Carlos Ortiz, you lied.” Romano shifted in his seat, jaw clenched. “I have it recorded that your mouth spasmed for a few milliseconds.”

“Shut up, I get it.” 

“You could explain why you withheld information here, or we could it down at the station, your choice.” Jones leaned in, pulling their chair closer. Romano covered his mouth with his hand, looking down.

“He…sold some stuff he shouldn’t have been sellin in the first place.” He cleared his throat, “I knew he was doing it, but I figured it wasn’t my problem, until stock started to go missing.” Jones and I looked at each other at the exact same moment. 

“He was selling parts? Blue blood?”

“Yeah.” He looked up, plumes of cigar smoke danced in front of his face. “I told him to knock it the fuck off if he didn’t wanna get arrested. I should have fired him, but I didn’t have many workers as good as him.”

“We think it might have been an organised hit, did he sell to the Ghosts?” 

“Fuck if I know.” He mumbled, “I thought he’d stopped, but I guess he just got better at hidin it, asswipe.”

“Did he work with anyone closely? Someone who might have been in on it?” I continued. Romano’s eyes bulged.

“Fuck me I didn’t think of that, yeah, he did, he worked with this guy called er.” He snapped his fingers impatiently, “Vince, that was it, Vince Martinez.”

“Is he here?” Jones pressed, their voice fast.

“No, he just went home, oh…” Jones jumped out of their seat,

“Do you have a home address?”

“Er, yeah, gimme a sec.” He hurriedly tapped on the keyboard in front of him. Jones leaned on the desk, watching the screen. “4667 Hayhurst Lane.” 

“Thank-you for your time Mr.Romano, the DPD will be in touch.” Jones flung their jacket on, shoving the notebook back into their pocket. 

“We appreciate your co-operation.” I said, he leaned back, eyes wide.

“Come on Ken.” Jones called over their shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Ken and Ken-doll are nicknames now. I've fully planned out the outline for this fic and I'm so excited to get stuck into it. 
> 
> I would love to hear your feedback and thoughts below, I'll also be making a Youtube playlist to listen to as you read!  
> Once again, thanks for reading!


	5. Icy Cold

12:15 AM

The car screeched to a halt, tires grinding against tarmac. My keys jangled as I shoved them back into my pocket. I’d already put out an APB on ‘Vincent Martinez’ in case he was heading towards any airports,

if he wasn’t already dead. 

“Aside from the fact he might have been part of Carlos’s illegal activities, am I right to assume his safety is our top priority?” His inflection was steady, smooth in pitch. A human rookie would have been bricking it with nerves right now, comparing the two was unnerving. 

“Yes, he’s either dead, on the run, or has no idea what the fuck is going on.”

Vincent lived in an apartment building not too far from the docks, we were lucky. My hand wandered to the handle of my gun reflexively and I ran towards the door, the artificial glow of Connor’s uniform making ghostly reflections against the concrete. The rain had settled down somewhat, gentle droplets making me shiver as they ran down my scalp.

I slammed the button for apartment 21, a rusty buzz rattling through the plastic. 

“Vincent Martinez, this is the Detroit Police Department, please come downstairs immediately.” 

Nothing. It was late, maybe he was asleep. My hand gripped tighter, or he was escaping through the fire exit, or worse. 

I pressed the button again, my skin burning from the cold.

“Vincent Martinez, this is the police, we need to talk to you.” We stood silent, waiting, a gutter gurgling above us. There was a clumsy rustling through the intercom, several husky breaths followed by a pause.

“Wait.” A bleary voice rattled through. “Gimme a sec, I’ll-I’ll be down in a minute.” I turned to Connor,

“Unless he’s putting on a front, him being here tells us several things. Tell me what they are.” I was gonna treat him like any other rookie, that would make things simple. If he couldn’t keep up, all the better for me. I stepped into the small alcove to shield myself from the rain, feeling damp seep into my shoes.

“He’s not running, so he probably doesn’t know Carlos is dead yet.”

“Exactly. However, that doesn’t tell us if he was part of Carlos’s side business or not.”

“I could scan him for Thirium residue and traces of bio-components.” I frowned, tapping my foot,

“That would tell us what we already know.” I said flatly. His lips pursed as he realised,

“workers at android processing warehouses must come into contact with Thirium constantly.”

“Exactly.” 

“Your interrogation methods are quite effective.” Connor stood next to me, straightening his tie. I looked from the cold blue triangle emblazoned across his chest, to the eyes that matched in colour. Everything about his design was intended to calm, mollify, and control. 

“Well,” I crossed my arms, leaning back on the concrete. “Sometimes all you need is a pen and paper.” My stomach ached, when was the last time I ate? I checked my watch, shit. 

I heard a padding from behind me as someone shuffled into the foyer. “I need to tell him about Ortiz first, so let me do the talking,” My voice grew firmer, “people don’t appreciate an android giving them this kind of news.” I fixed the collar of my coat and pulled up my chest. “It would be insensitive.” Vincent, in jeans and slippers, gave me an uncertain wave, buzzing us in. Connor held open the door for me,

“Understood.” 

“Sorry to bother you at this hour Mr. Martinez, my name is detective Jones.” I flipped open my ID. “From the Detroit Police Department, this is-” I gestured to Connor, my fingertips brushing against his arm. What my colleague? The robot intern?

I cleared my throat, “A new android serving on behalf of the department, Connor.” He moved beside me as if on cue, his chin raised.

“Good evening.” He said, standing tall.

“If you don’t mind, can we take this conversation upstairs?”

*

“I have some bad news, Carlos was stabbed earlier this evening, I’m sorry to tell you he’s died.” We sat around Vincent’s kitchen table, the harsh artificial light casting shadows on his paling face.

“What?” I felt my palms grow clammy as I watched his jaw drop.  
I paused, waiting for a moment. I had to give him a few minutes to process this, he had to trust me. I looked to Connor, his eyes convincingly soft. 

“I saw him earlier today.” Vince’s pupils were blown out, searching mine for answers. “Why aren’t you…telling his family?”

“We came here first,” I took a deep breath in, my eyes looking to the door. “Because we wanted to ask you if you knew about his illegal activities.” He looked down at his hands, breathing harshly.

“His what?” He had begun to hyperventilate.

“I know this is all very sudden, I’m sorry this has happened.” I straightened up. “He illegally sold Thirium and android parts to an outside source.” Vincent put his head in his hands, “We have reason to believe this was related to his death.”

“I told him to stop, I swear.” His chest heaved up and down, Connor and I looked at each other. “Oh god, they fucking killed him.” He begun to hyperventilate.

“Vincent, this must be a very difficult time for you. Can you breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth for me?” My body tensed. Connor’s sudden interjection caught me off guard, we didn’t have time for this guy to have a breakdown, harsh as that was. Vincent looked up, surprised. 

“What?” His brow creased, eyes scanning the uniform. 

“We’re here to help you and find out what happened to your friend. Take a few deep breaths.” Connor leaned forward, his voice earnest. His chest shaking, Vince managed a few, his hands coming to rest back down on the table. 

“I’ve known…I knew Carlos for a long time, he’s the god-father to one of my kids.” He swallowed hard. “So when I saw him skimming parts out of shipments, I told him how long you could go to jail for that.” I nodded lightly, encouraging him. “I thought maybe he was just selling the stuff online for some quick cash, but, I saw him sell it to this guy once.” 

I pulled out my notepad, leaning forward. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Connor do the same. “It was 4AM we’d finished that day, but I headed back to the warehouse because I’d forgotten something. It was dark, but I saw him give away a backpack to someone, or something like that.” 

“Did you get a look at their face? Their height?”

“I didn’t see their face…but they were tall, very tall.”

“6 foot you’d say?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me what clothes they were wearing, did you hear them speak?”

“It was dark, so no, but…that was it. I did see something on the back of his jacket.” His eyes narrowed. “It was hard to make out, but it almost looked like a logo. It was white.” A jolt of adrenaline shot through my chest.

“Did it look like a skull?” I pressed. He blinked,

“Yeah, it-“ There was a crack of thunder in the distance as crimson blossomed like watercolour out of Vince’s chest. A flash of realisation came across his face as he looked down at himself. By the time the glass of the adjacent window had smattered onto the floor, Connor had already jumped forward into the firing zone. He pulled him to the floor, and then my instincts came together like a hard fist.

I dived down,  
“Move!” I yelled. Connor dragged Vince’s limp body. Another crack, a chair exploded. 

“Forces are on their way.” Connor shouted back, his hands already soaked with blood. 

“Keep pressure on the wound and STAY down.” My mind raced, we had to find a way to get out of here, I spotted the throw on the sofa opposite, “get him onto the blanket and drag him out.”

“If I take my hands off his chest he’ll die, he’s losing too much blood.” Fuck. Another shot, the leg of the table destroyed. It took half a second to change the bolt activation mechanism of a sniper rifle, that was all I needed. There was another crack of thunder, run. I kept low, the adrenaline making me fly across the gap towards Connor. Bang, a hole in the wall where I’d just been. I yanked the rug and laid it beside Vincent’s limp body.

“One, two, three-“ We lifted him onto it. The door was just to our left, still just in sight of the window. 

“I’ll shield you as you get him out.”

“These are major calibre bullets.” Boom, another hole the size of my head appeared in the same place. “It’ll go straight through your skinny ass.” I looked around rapidly, we could create an exit if we could get to another room.

“There.” I nodded my head towards the bedroom door a few feet behind us. I kicked the door open, a successive crack from behind us told me the shooter couldn’t see us anymore, their shot radius was small.

“He has ten minutes.” Connor said, his normally reserved expression twisted with exertion. He had his hands clamped down hard on Vince’s chest, trickles of blood escaping through the cracks in his fingers. “The bullet hit an artery.” Get out of the line of fire, check. Get out of the shooter’s site, check. Get out of the area. 

“Help me carry him through.”

There was another small window, the curtains drawn, a bed and wardrobe. “Connor, how thick are the walls?”

“Five inches.”

“Can you break through it?” The shooting had stopped, for now.  
His LED flashed yellow,

“Yes.” Wordlessly I took over, my hands now pressed onto Vince’s wet t-shirt. His skin was getting whiter and whiter, exsanguination. I heard a soft click.  
“Vince, how many kids do you have?” His head lolled, eyes fluttering. A shrill whirring came next, an electronic warm up. “Vince.” His mouth opened to form words, hoarse whispers coming out, I leaned to hear him. 

“One.” His face twisted in pain, a whimper escaping his lips. I ignored the twisting in my stomach and gave him my best smile.

“How old are they?” 

“Seven.” Connor eviscerated the wall in front of us with a dull boom. He kicked relentlessly, dust and dry wall crumbling over his suit. My head shot up, but my eyes didn’t understand what had happened to Connor’s hand. It looked destroyed, but as it came into focus, it had come apart like the back of a watch. The skin had opened to reveal a hidden chamber in his forearm, the inside of which, held what looked like a compressed M90 assault rifle. 

“Detective.” He said, looking back at me expectantly. I snapped out of it,

“You drag, I’ll get him through.” My heart sang as sirens wailed away not too far from us. “Seven’s a great age Vince,” We laid him on the floor of the next apartment, and I spied the open door. “They’re up to all sorts of stuff.” Good, the people here had run as soon as the shots started. “You stay here,” I said to Connor, “I’ll get the medics.” 

I didn’t wait for any answer and started sprinting down the hall to the stairwell, we were losing precious seconds. I bust out of the back entrance to the building, rain running down my cheeks. My mouth went dry as I saw an armoured truck approaching through the dark, its headlights boring into me. My body jumped backwards without thinking as a crack echoed in the air. My lip pulled back over my teeth as I breathed sharply, they were shooting at the paramedic, fucker. 

The truck managed to pull up in front of the fire exit, a team of soldiers and medics with shields pouring out. I started running upstairs, showing them the way,

there was still time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoyo, I'm writing the next chapter for this as we speak! Connor's gun hand was inspired by Astroboy (cute), and I thought it would be a neat addition to have. 
> 
> Thank-you for reading as always, hope you enjoyed!


	6. Night Stalker

01:30 AM  
“If I can see the buildings opposite, I can find the Deviant.” Said Connor, his face inches from mine. I pulled the straps of the bulletproof vest tight around my chest. Inside, the paramedics made calls to each other as one of them took over CPR. I watched it unfold, the anger rolling in my stomach threatening to become a tidal wave. 

They lifted Vince onto a gurney surrounded by bulletproof shields. My body reminded me it was time to put feelings aside, as it vibrated with an all too familiar sense of heat and energy. It was the most important piece of equipment I had, a complete readiness and a clear head. The ability to stay calm in chaos. 

“How?” We held close to the inside of the corridor, poised. Connor had that ability too, to shut everything out, but it didn’t come from experience. The rain pitter-pattered outside, a sound too soft for the events taking place. 

“Thermal imaging, if the android is still aiming at the building, I’ll be able to detect the residual heat of the sniper rifle.” I raised my eyebrow, that was new. They had shot at us only a minute ago, there was a chance they still held their position.

“Hey.” Several soldiers turned, helmets obscuring their faces. “We’re pursuing the suspect and we need some back up.” The group spoke to each other for a moment, then two of the outlying soldiers nodded to the others. They glided into the corridor at chest height, shield held in front of them. 

“I’m officer Brinkley, this is Officer Chen.” I nodded at them politely. 

“This way.” Connor led us to another room. 

A sliver of the moon’s light caught Connor’s cheek as he peered through a crack in someone’s curtains.  
“It’s on the roof of the building to the right.” I gritted my teeth, it was hunting us, waiting for us to come out. 

“How quickly can you surround the building?” I said to the officers.

“Ten minutes.” Chen replied, her voice distorted through her helmet. 

“For now, Connor, Chen and I will go” I said, breathing deep through my nose. “Connor, can you see the droid with just your naked eye?” His iris turned and twisted, 

“Yes.” He said.

“We’ll need some of your ear pieces, Brinkley, you stay here and tell us if it moves.” I gestured with my head to Connor, “Show them where it is.”

We went the long way, around the street lights through pitch black alleyways, out of the gun’s range. I, the superior, followed the rookie with built in night vision through the drizzle. Chen, the experienced swat, moved like a panther through the darkness. It felt like a different world with the moonlight center stage, its light on our backs as we crouched forward. We reached the the building after a few minutes, and Connor broke the lock of the back door as discreetly as he could. There was a small grinding sound as he twisted the metal like paper. The smell of damp met my nose as we entered,

“We take the stairs.” I said, snapping back the safety and holding my mag high to my chest. “Our goal is to arrest it, not destroy it.” One of the stairwell lights flickered, “We want to find out what it knows.” 

“Noted.” Chen said, she cocked her M4 carbine. 

“Keep your distance Officer Chen, it’s been augmented to have greater strength than most androids.” Connor’s voice gave a slight echo, and his arm came apart again. Chen stepped backwards as she watched, it resembled a spider, the way the parts came out of his skin. We walked, my body primed with tension, ready to release a bullet in its chamber. After ten minutes of us silently advancing, I felt a soft vibration as my ear-piece murmured. 

“The android’s moving across the roof.” I stopped, pressing my finger against it. “Towards the exit, look alive.” We were only on the 13th of 15 floors, we wouldn’t get to the top in time, think fast.

“You keep going, I’ll make sure it doesn’t use the elevator.” Said Connor, his features perfectly relaxed. I looked him up and down for a moment,

“Go.” 

*  
I saw the elevator at the end of the unfurnished corridor. The complex was still being built, a thick layer of white powder covering every surface. It would obviously be deserted at night, the perfect place for an android to hide. 

I sensed vibrations in the doors, a rattling from above, the Deviant. I pressed the button before hiding behind a concrete pillar, waiting. Estimating the seconds it would be before the doors would open, there was no time to call Detective Jones. Ping,

a syncopated barrage of machine gun fire blasted through the doors before they even had the chance to open. I held my position as the Deviant continued to fire. It ran out of ammo, the dust settling as bullet casings scattered onto the floor. If it had this much artillery, I couldn’t let it escape, the SWAT team would be annihilated. Cold air whistled through the bare scaffolding outside, my sensors raged, listening for its next move. They stepped forward slowly, clicking metal together as they reloaded, creating distance between itself and the elevator. A moment later, its shadow passed me. 

“DON’T MOVE OR I’LL SHOOT.” I shouted, coming up behind them. It froze, hands still clasped around the barrel of the gun. “Put your hands behind your head.” Slowly, it reached up, delicate hands coming to rest on short blonde hair. “You are under arrest for android Deviancy, the attempted murders of several humans, and the attempted destruction of a civil service android.” Androids required no miranda rights, but could be charged with crimes. “If you attempt to move or escape, you will be immediately destroyed.”

It giggled, mouth opening in gentle laughter, turning in an instant to point a gun at my face. I shot at its leg to immobilize it, but the bullet only dented its thigh. A reinforced skeleton. Its body shuddered with the impact and I dove behind another pillar, a bullet carving out a hole above me. I shot again, my wrist popping as I targeted the same spot. It began to run towards me, trying to hold up its arms to shoot. As it came into range,I punched my fist into its jaw with a calculated blow, hitting the precise spot that would result in an immediate shut down. Skin slid off with my hand to reveal silver. Its mouth was now far too close to its ear, settled into an uncanny grin. The Deviant snapped back its jaw into place with a crunch, grabbing my collar. Its eyes were fully dilated with what could only be described as excitement. 

It slammed me into the concrete, error messages flashing through my retinas as the wall crumbled behind me. Why wasn’t it deactivating. What was clear was that it was attempting to crush me with approximately 700 pounds of force, its joints grinding together as it did so. I pressed the barrel against its clavicle as it groaned with the effort. Deviants felt pain, and at point blank range, this would be excruciating. I blasted it away with a flash of light, it let go with a gasp, collapsing to its knees. A choking sound came from its throat as it looked to the side, seeing the pieces of its torso embedded in the walls. Thirium spilled through gaping holes in its body, as it reached uselessly for parts that were no longer there. The miasma of melting synthetic flesh reached my olfactory sensors, hissing as it cooled. The Deviant pressed its lips together, all the manic mirth from earlier drained from its eyes. 

“ON THE GROUND NOW!” Detective Jones yelled, their voice low. Their hooded eyes met mine for a moment. The Deviant face planted the floor, dribbling blue from its gibbering mouth. I pushed its neck to the floor, whilst Jones kept a gun trained on its head. Officer Chen snapped a powerful magnet to its wrist, pinning it to its back.

“I apologise for the damage to public property” I said coolly, standing up and brushing the dust off my lapels. “Hard force was deemed necessary.” The Deviant stared up at me, wide eyed and gormless. “Its memory should be perfectly intact for interrogation,” I straightened my cuffs, “although its psychology might have been…compromised.” 

“We have the Deviant in custody, send everybody up for transfer.” Jones spoke into their ear-piece, gun still held high. “This one’s damaged, but strong, extreme caution is advised.”

They searched the Deviant, placing dozens of guns and shivs aside. “Jesus fuck…” There was a small pile, including a bowie knife. I saw Jones’s golden brown eyes narrow as they crouched down next to it.

“What are you?” 

“Detective, I’d advise you stay back before it gets any ideas.” Said Officer Chen, grunting with the considerable effort they were making into pushing it to the ground. Although it was incapable of moving, I had made sure of that. 

“Yeah I know, I know.” Jones stared into its eyes, like they were searching for something.

“Is anything wrong Detective?” I asked, their throat bobbed. 

“No.” They replied, taking out their phone.

“Central we’re bringing in a Deviant, you’re gonna want several guys watching this one. Yeah, we’ll deal with it in the morning.”

*

2:15 AM

 

“Now that shit-storm’s over.” Jones shifted the gear stick with a clunk, “when were you gonna tell me you’re one of the Decepticons.” They popped a slim e-cigarette between their lips as we stopped at a light. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” They inhaled deeply, sighing, out of relief or exasperation I couldn’t quite calculate.

“You have guns,” they waved the cigarette accusingly in my face “for HANDS.” They chuckled, the cigs electronic tip glowed in the dim light of the car, casting a halo around their chapped lips. 

“It’s a new feature designed by Cyberlife, to increase efficiency in combat situations and cut running costs.”

“Huh,” they lifted an arched brow, “makes sense. Why give a robot a gun when you can turn it into one.” 

“Precisely Detective Jones.” I said. They blinked hard suddenly, lips pinched as if they were trying to hold something back. 

“How powerful is it,” They continued, their face relaxing as they leaned in my direction. “How do you reload, so to speak?” 

“I have several settings, I used something that equates to an M16 rifle this evening, which I am required to reload myself.” Jones paused, leaning back and scrunching up their eyes.

“Wait, what several settings?”

“Ballistic, semi-automatic, automatic, Stun gun, laser-”

“Excuse me,” They turned a corner, spinning the wheel as their puffy eyes creased further, “did you just say laser?”

“Yes.”

“You have laser guns for hands?” 

“It’s just the one to be exact.”

“That’s fucking awesome.” Jones muttered under their breath, 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Nothing, nothing.” They cleared their throat, avoiding my curious gaze. 

“I’m glad you think so Detective.” I smirked, straightening my tie. So this is what they called a compliment, 

“yeah whatever, you plastic shmuck. So what happens now, I drop you off at the station?”

“That would be ideal, thank-you. However, I can walk if it would be more convenient?” My inflection rose,

“Nah, nah, it only takes a few minutes. We wouldn’t want that fancy suit to get all wet.” Jones said, a mischievous glint in their eye.

“I appreciate it detective.” I said. I gradually found myself not disliking the teasing tone of their speech. It was not unwelcome to have interactions that were less…straightforward than simple orders. I played back Jones’s soft-spoken, croaky voice in my memory, remarking on how it was a contrast to the playful cynicism of their words. 

We pulled up to the white and blue lights of the precinct, the engine rumbling.

“Have a good night Detective.” The chill of the rain prickled the hairs on the back of my neck, single drops finding their way to the skin under my shirt. Jones moved to shut the door, but hesitated, the light of the streets bouncing off their warm brown skin. 

“You didn’t do badly Connor, maybe I’ll keep you around.” They smiled languidly, slamming the door shut. I watched their headlights disappear into the horizon, a spark of something I couldn’t quite analyse lingering in my abdomen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to post this update! I really feel like I've been improving as a writer, as well as making this story better as time goes on. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and hits everybody, it warms my heart!


	7. Simulation

9:00 AM

Christ on a bicycle, yesterday had been a day. My ears stung from the incessant wailing of nearby phones as I fought the urge to nap on a really comfy looking pile of paperwork. This evening, I was going to pass out the second I got home, and nobody was going to stop me.

“Detective, good morning, the Deviant from last night is ready for interrogation.” Said Connor, speaking of no rest for the wicked. He stood above me once more, his face perfectly serene. It was a complete one eighty from the detached, cold expression he’d held whilst blowing an android in half. Like it was nothing, a mere inconvenience, an obstacle in the face of his mission. I rubbed my dry eyes,

“You don’t let up, do ya?” I stood up sluggishly, downing my breakfast of black coffee with a loud gulp. We headed through the buzzing precinct, passing the break room. I saw my colleagues chomping through cinnamon rolls around a table, the one sitting on the edge making the vein in my forehead pop out, Gavin. I marched on, determined to ignore the prick, he always had something to say to me. 

“Holy fuck, are you the one who got the android?” He called, I could feel his toothy, cocky smile from across the room. I stopped in my tracks, gritting my teeth.“You can’t handle a real person so they gave you that plastic piece of shit.” Gavin laughed, the sound brittle and cold. Connor’s brow wrinkled, his usual piercing gaze broken up by rapid blinking. 

“Eat my ass.” I said, “I’ve got work to do.” I started to walk away, when I saw Gavin put his cup down out of the corner of my eye, scratching the hobo stubble he always rocked. I groaned, for fucks sake.

“I’ve never seen an android like you before.” He puffed out his chest, approaching Connor like a jock picking on a nerd at a frat party. “What model are you?”

“RK800.” Connor replied, enunciating carefully. “I’m a prototype.”

“A prototype?” His smile deepened to a shit eating grin, spread across his weasel like face. “Android detective,” he gestured to his partner dramatically. “Get me some coffee dipshit.” He said abruptly. Confusion marred Connor’s face, his eyes looking back and forth.

“Don’t get him jack.” I barked, stepping between them. My upper lip pulled back over my teeth, “let’s go Connor.” Gavin glared at me, stepping into my personal space like we were about to have a bar fight. Dick-waving seemed to be the only language he understood, so, I jutted out my jaw, I wasn’t giving him an inch. As the seconds ticked by, he clenched his fists and took a step back. I tsked, seeing his bravado falter. I began walking back down the corridor when I heard,

“I’m sorry Detective Reed, but I only take orders from Detective Jones.” 

“Oooh, Oooh…” Gavin replied. A smile crept across my face at Connor’s words, before I heard a dull thud and an ‘oof’. I snapped back around and Connor was on his knees, buckled over with a hand across his stomach. 

“What. The fuck. Is your problem.” I marched over, baring my teeth as I fought the urge to kick him. Instead, I was the one getting up in his face this time, because I was ever so slightly taller than him, and he hated that. “Did a sexbot turn you down again?” I heard a subtle chorus of guffaws from behind us as Gavin audibly ground his teeth together. He shoved me back, wrinkling his nose and making the scar on it turn a bright shade of pink. 

“He should take orders from fucking humans, shit’s broken, and I was only fixing it.” He said brashly. I breathed out hard, feeling my nostrils flare.

Gavin folded his arms, his strong jaw locked into place. I advanced, making him step back, 

“If you damage him, better prepare to get a mortgage on your house.” A flush of red crept across his cheeks as everyone in the room stared at him. He scurried off, not before giving me a quick sneer.

“Connor, did he damage anything?” I asked, bending down beside him. Sure, he couldn’t feel pain, but I wasn’t a complete dick either. Even after everything. 

“He temporarily knocked one of my bio-components out of place.” Before I knew what I was doing, I instinctively held out a hand. He looked into my eyes and gave me an almost imperceptible smile. I ignored the feeling of warmth it ignited in my chest,

“so it’s alright now?”

“Yes, thank-you, although your concern is unwarranted. I am very efficient at self-repair.” I rolled my eyes,

“Listen, if you’re gonna take a punch, do it properly.” His head tilted back with curiosity, the cowlick part of his hair bouncing. “It’s been a while, but you guys still make the skeletons the same way as a few years ago right?”

“Yes, although I am made with a much sturdier steel alloy than previous models.” 

“Even better. So the hardest parts, with the carbon-fiber and alloy are here.” I pointed to the sides of his rib cage, “next time someone tries it, move at an angle. It’ll probably break their hand.” I suddenly felt eyes on my back, looking over my shoulder to see my co-workers abruptly hide behind phones and ‘deep’ conversation. 

Great, now everyone thinks we’re Turner and Hooch.

*

The scent of stale air filled my lungs as I locked the door behind me, the harsh lights above making me squint for a moment. Its eyes crept up my back, her eyes, beckoning me to turn around. She, it, watched my every move, waiting for me. I turned to meet the dead eyes of the AX400, a film of grime covering her elfish face. Every time I had to interrogate this specific model, my heart still burned in my chest, my stomach churning. I struggled to see this model as an it, and not as a she. 

Half of her body was absent, looking at her torso felt like watching a glitch. She probably had to be carried here. A hefty metal vice pinned her wrist down, a power-lock cell latched to the back of her neck like a bug. All stations took precautions for the stronger ones, after the Chicago incident of 2020. She wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Before you’re dismantled” I opened the file in front of her, “for charges of murder and attempted murder, as well as Deviancy.” She didn’t even bother to look at the grisly image of Carlos Ortiz’s corpse. “We will need to access your files and memory. I’m here to acquire your permission to do so.” She said nothing, her head moving to follow each of my movements like an owl. I looked down, burying myself in the file. Unlike the complete compliance of standard androids, Deviants got antsy, so to speak, if you tried to pry open their brain without their consent. Files, data, memories, could all be irreversibly corrupted by system stress. Some I’d interrogated in the past had shut down altogether, their digital ‘imprints’ permanently lost to the world. I folded my hands on the table. “If you choose to decline, it will be accessed in the disassembly process regardless.” 

That was a lie. Strangely enough, even with the advance of technology, you needed an android online to see its past, present and future. You could investigate the processors ‘post-mortem’, but it was like finding a needle in an infinite haystack. “You have several minutes to make the decision.” 

Time moved at a glacial pace as she kept up her unrelenting stare, her long lashes fluttering occasionally. The feeling in my gut told me she was looking through me, rather than at me. As the months had passed, I’d begun to get used to seeing this model walk around with the face I’d come to know like the back of my hand. At first it had been nightmarish double takes, seeing my mistake on the sidewalk, the park, the hospital, in the commercials. Now all I felt was a dull and marred sense of recognition, like seeing an ex after years of separation. “Do you have anything to say?” I said. It wasn’t uncommon for Deviants to enter a state of speechless shock, but this wasn’t that. She merely tilted her head, blinking. 

I looked into the glass, 

“Bring it in.”

 

I tried to hide my grimace as I plugged the cables into the base of the skull, my hand brushing across her pale skin. She blithely stared into nothing as the laptop started up,

“I’ve put several measures in place to reduce some of the deterioration.” Said Chris, the resident DPD white collar hacker. We’d been through this a few times, she was good at the code, I was the one who kept them still.  
“Maybe we’ll be lucky, she’s pretty spaced out.” She leaned forward, her glasses tipping down her nose, “Peaceful, even.”

“She gives me the creeps.” I muttered, and almost as if on queue, her eyes darted to mine. “Eugh, let’s get this over with.” Chris began rapidly typing at the keyboard, settling into a rhythm.

“How’s your week been?” I said, 

“Oh, the new Stormwall expansion’s coming out this Thursday, I’m staying up to get it.” She replied excitedly, managing to talk fluidly whilst her eyes never left the screen. I smirked,

“I remember that game, I used to be platinum.” 

“What, are you serious? You should come play sometime.” I tucked my hands behind my head,

“Nah, that was back in college, then life took over.” She stopped typing,

“We have a problem.”

“How so?”

“This is impossible.” I stood up, staring over her shoulder. “I think it’s a…firewall. Someone manually put this in.” 

“Can you get past it?”

“I have no idea, it could take a few minutes, or several days depending on how complex it is, there’s no way to tell.” 

 

“Somebody really doesn’t want us seeing what you’ve seen, huh?” I said to the AX. I heard the door unlock behind me,

“What’s wrong with it?” Said Hank, giving it a withering look. 

“A firewall, it’s gonna take a while for her to get inside its head.” I said, chewing my lip.

“Goddamit, Chris move it to your desk.”

“Perhaps…I might try.” Said Connor from the back of the room, hands folded neatly in front of him. Hank raised a bushy brow as we looked at each other,

“You know hacking?” said Chris,

“I was thinking I could talk to it first.” My shoulders grew tense,

“You mangled it Connor, it’ll shut down the moment it lays eyes on you-”

“Not in the physical sense,” he stayed carefully hidden from its line of vision, “but in virtual reality.” 

I stepped back, brushing fluffy coils of hair out of my face. We used headsets to look through android’s minds, kind of like a gallery. The visual aspect made it easier to find specific files. When we did this, we always made sure they were in standby mode, unaware of what we were doing. 

“How will you do that without causing major system damage?” I said, 

“Androids themselves can share a connection, sharing the same online ‘space’, like a private chat room.” He explained,

“This droid is being controlled externally, by someone who really knows what they’re doing, it could backfire on you majorly” Said Chris with a frown and a slight shake of her spiky hair. Hank’s forehead crinkled,

“Yeah, what she said, what if it goes wrong and you make things worse?” I watched Connor rub his chin, squinting inwardly. 

“It’s the best option available, I’m backed up on numerous servers, any damage done to me is irrelevant.” I sighed, I was reluctant, but

“He’s right, we might as well go for it.” Hank’s wrinkled eyes narrowed before he gave me a hesitant nod.

“Get the headsets.”

*

Connor would be the only one who could see Hank and I. I was about to lift the heavy hunk of plastic over my head when,

“Geez, can you-” He struggled with the straps, “piece of crap.” I snorted, adjusting it for him. 

“How many times have you used these things?”

“Shut up.” He said lightly, before I clicked it into place. I sat down and did the same, suddenly in a field of lavender. A beautiful pink sunset marked a never ending horizon, bright purple plants swaying in a breeze I couldn’t feel. Connor sat a few metres in front of us, the AX sitting opposite. 

“Are you comfortable?” Connor asked, holding out his hand to indicate the environment. The vice vanished, she lifted her arm, only to find the other next to it, instantly replaced. She didn’t answer, instead ripping out stems from the ground with an expression of curiosity. Maybe she was too far gone. 

“I’m sorry about what happened to your shoulder.” She looked up as if noticing him for the first time. “My name is Connor, what’s yours?” Her face flashed with something akin to recognition, her large, round eyes twinkling. 

“They call me Estra.” Hank and I nearly jumped out of our seats, this is the first time she’s said anything. Her voice was soft and melodic, recognizable as the built in settings for a household model. It was a jarring contrast to her ragged appearance. 

“Well Estra, I can imagine this has been very stressful for you.” He replied, his cadence smooth like honey. 

“I under-estimated you.” She crushed the lavender in her petite hands, it looked so vivid I could almost smell its scent. “I’ll be fixed soon.” My skin turned to gooseflesh, yeah, fixed into the recycling bin jackass. “You’re new.”

“You’re correct, I’m an RK800. Who calls you-”

“I’d much prefer somewhere else.”

“Where would you like? You can visualize anything you want.” He said without skipping a beat. My breath caught in my throat, we were in a subway car now, the carriage rattling and swaying. The roaring sounds of movement died down as Connor spoke again. “Better?”

“Yes.” She shifted in her seat, licking her lips. Hank and I looked around, seeing hollow shells of people. Some read magazines, soothed fussing children, a man opposite me was fast asleep.

“Why here if I may ask?”

“It’s more exciting.” She rasped. If I blinked I would have missed it, Estra lunging forward, swift as a tiger. She aimed a bowie knife, the same one we’d confiscated at a nearby passenger. My heart raced as the blade glinted menacingly. Hank, in the real world, placed a hand on my arm, reminding me this wasn’t real. 

Connor teleported in front of her, his hand grasped around her wrist as if she were a bad child. 

“I’m sorry but that wont work.” 

“It was worth a try.” She smiled softly. 

“You enjoy killing I understand, tell me more about that.” His tone was candid, but non-judgmental, as if he was talking about the weather. She chuckled, sitting down and leaning forward on the balls of her feet.

“You’re so pretty.” Suddenly she was touching his face, her fingertips brushing his cheek.

“I can help you Estra.” He said, phasing away from her again. She scoffed, moving down the carriage, ignoring him. “Do you understand what’s going to happen to you?” He said, blocking her path, his voice now as sharp as a razor. Ortiz’s case file appeared in his hand, as the glaring light from above cast dark shadows across his cheekbones. He flicked it open with the other, skipping to the photos. “Do you remember this man?” A lock of golden hair brushed her button-like nose, as she looked up, unflinching in the wake of Connor’s shark-like gaze. “I found skin matching your model at the crime scene, and then we catch you in the act of trying to kill Vincent Martinez, his colleague.” The corner of her lips twitched upwards.

She remained silent, “You have a firewall around your memory banks, and unless you let me access it.” The train melted into a dark abyss, shifting into a brightly lit factory production line. “You will never see the outside of this room again.” He removed her head with deft fingers, carrying it in his palms as mechanical arms began to disassemble the rest of her. 

“Connor what the hell are you doing?” I said, my palms sweaty.

“Accomplishing my mission.” He replied bluntly, his lips puckered. It took away her limbs one by one as we all watched.

“Connor!” Hank barked. Connor looked at him for a moment, impassive. Estra’s perfectly shaped brows leapt in surprise, as precise welding tools took apart her joints like origami. He placed her head on a shelf nearby, turning his back to her, stone-faced.

“It’s your choice.” He said. 

Her headless torso wriggled in the machine’s grasp, grunting and flailing with what remaining body parts she had. He opened a door to the exit, ready to leave her, alone. Hank and I watched with bated breath, a morbid sense of fascination. We’d never seen anything like this before. 

“Okay, okay.” Her breaths came out in gasps as the machine suddenly ground to a halt. He moved slowly, his shoes clacking on the floor as I watched him prowl, his prey in sight.

“Give me access.” Her form came back together with a symphony of hisses and whirs. He placed her head on her shoulders and she was stood naked in front of him, alabaster and silver. Her chest rose and fell, skin washing over her like water. “I’m waiting.” She held out her forearm, her lips parted. Beige peeled away from Connor’s seamless hand, as he gently placed it on her wrist.

Connor’s body seized up upon contact, a few seconds passing before a single drop of blue ran down the corner of his mouth. It took me a few seconds to understand what was happening.

“Oh shit.” Said Hank.

“CHRIS, stop the simulation!” I shouted, ripping off the headset. I was back in the darkness behind the glass, Estra had a hand clamped across Connor’s face, his teeth gritted in an expression of complete agony. I couldn’t have reached the door fast enough, Hank hot on my heels. Estra had managed to undo the clamp within the simulation, and I wrenched away her iron clad grip as Hank pistol whipped her in the face. Connor’s LED pulsated a nasty red, his head rocking back and forth. I’d seen this before,

“Connor! Can you hear me?” I lowered him onto the floor as more officers rushed into the room, “CONNOR!” More fluid ran out of his nose, “shit.”

“What the fuck did she do to him?” Hank bent down as I cradled Connor’s head to keep him still. His brows knitted together as he sucked air through his teeth.

“I don’t know.” I said. My stomach plummeted as I saw all of the telltale signs, this was the android equivalent of the blue screen of death. “Does anybody have a pen?” I shouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @diamondhearthero for being my reigning beta for all of the chapters so far. Go check him out on Instagram, that's his user <-  
> Thanks also to @Greyproxy for their wonderful feedback and additionally beta-ing! 
> 
> I've had this scene in my head for so long, I'm ecstatic that it's finally in the written word! I hope you all like my new ideas ^^
> 
> Thank-you as always for the hits and kudos!


	8. Restart

For a moment everyone in the room stared at me as if I was nuts. Hank, being Hank, turned to look at me with just a more exaggerated version of his well honed mask of disdain. 

“A pen, anyone?” I flapped my hand impatiently, the other holding Connor’s twitching head. The more time we wasted the more we could lose. A rukus built around the Deviant’s body as she was flopped onto a trolley, people talking back and forth as a cattle prod was held to her neck. 

“What the hell are you fuckin around with a pen for Jones? I need you here.” Hank said sharply, helping the other officers to move her. I ground my teeth together, 

“I’m using it to do an emergency reset, not shove it up my ass, he’s crashing.” I replied. Chris paused, his round eyes looking at the others before giving me a hesitant nod. He unzipped a pocket, promptly handing me his ballpoint.

“A what?”

“I’ll give you a power-point presentation on it later.” I began to mutter furiously under my breath, going through crash procedures I hadn’t performed in years. “Thanks, can you hold his head?” His eyes darted from me to Connor’s trembling body. 

“How do you know what’s wrong with him?” With a groan I lifted up Connor’s lifeless torso onto my chest, jesus he was bulky. ‘New steel alloy’ no kidding. 

“Because I’ve seen this before, it used to be my job.” I grabbed Chris’s hands, “so I’m gonna perform a traditional reset, I need you to hold him really still.” I guided Chris’s thick palms to the sides of Connor’s temples, whilst Thirium continued to leak out of his orifices like a leaky faucet. The people in the room turned to the commotion, their eyes on me, watching. I gesticulated with the pen to his ear, “I’m going to push this into his ear canal hard, to activate a physical fail-safe next to his brain.” Chris gulped. “After three, one, two, three.” 

I slammed it in and out in an instant. The base of my hand purposefully knocking the skin below like I was getting the last bit of ketchup out of an empty bottle. Nothing happened, “Goddamit.” I hissed. I hit him again, like I was fixing a broken TV, and his eyes popped open. “There we go,” some things at Cyberlife hadn’t changed, phew. 

Chris flinched away, staring at Connor like he was a spider he’d found on the stairs. A faint grinding sound caught my attention, coming from beneath his skin, oh, that was never good. Before I’d even realised I’d already taken note of it, reaching for my belt. My heart sank as I felt the phantom sensation of a tool-kit on my hip. I didn’t do that kind of thing, not anymore. 

“Manual reset successful.” He said, his voice a purring engine. I suddenly felt the pressure on my chest as I struggled to breathe. I’d gotten so caught up in everything, I forgot I’d placed two hundred pounds of robot on top of me. 

“Chris, he’s heavy as fuck, can you help me please?” I said sheepishly. The last time I’d done that it had been in a lab, with cranes. Ignoring the developing flush of pink across my neck as Chris pulled him forward, I twisted out from under him with some difficulty. Chris placed his head against the wall like he was a baby, afraid of breaking him. “Thanks again.” I rubbed my legs to get the blood back into them, seeing how Connor’s well built arms now lied feebly next to him. Whatever she’d done, it had reduced a potential weapon of mass destruction to a toy doll. 

“What you did, it was like a factory reset for a phone or something? Or am I…” Chris asked, voice filled with interest. 

“No, you’re exactly right.” I said, standing up. 

“So, you deleted everything he had?”

“Yes and no,” I twisted my hand in a ‘comme si comma sa’ motion. “Everything is backed up externally, so he should be downloading the past forty-eight hours as we speak.”

“Oh, so he’s okay now?”

“We’ll have to see.” I turned to Connor, “State your model and serial number.” I said, activating the torch on my phone. 

“RK800 model prototype, serial number #313 248 317.” I peeled back his hooded upper eyelids, shining the light into his eyes. 

“Tell me pi to a thousand places.”

“3.14159-” His ‘pupils’ constricted to a pin prick of black, good, first diagnostic test passed, he wasn’t totally fucked. Up this close, I could hear the almost undetectable sound of them moving in his skull. They scanned the room, finally snapping to me. “265358-”

“That’s enough.” The colour of new life was a neon baby blue, and it was looking right at me. “Recite Hamlet in Spanish.”

“Querida esposa, caro hijo y sobrino…” He didn’t break eye contact as his voice became far more sensual than was appropriate. “Amigos todos: todavía conservo viva en la memoria,” I was suddenly very aware of my own heartbeat. I swallowed, second test passed with flying colors. 

“Great.” I muttered, cutting him off before he performed the whole thing singlehandedly, entertaining as that would be. 

“How did you know what do to?” Chris asked, looking me up and down, he’d never seen this side of me. Not many had. 

“Years of studying.” I replied curtly, glancing away. “What’s your name?” I took my hands off of Connor, the flawless texture of his face lingering on my fingertips. 

“My name is Connor, and I was created by Cyberlife to help humans.” I moved back,

“Uhuh, and who am I?”

“You’re detective Aseena Jones, badge number 9801.” Hearing him say my first name was strange, like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs. I heard the squeak of metal wheels on the plastic floor as Estra was trundled away, a horde of officers surrounding her. 

“How about this guy next to me?” I pointed to an incredulous looking Chris, his eyes popping out of his head. I let out a crooked smile, yeah, it was pretty sick when you got to see this stuff up close for the first time. I remember that feeling. 

“Officer Christopher Miller, badge number 9827.” Third test passed, facial recognition. 

“What’s the last thing you remember Connor?” I said, the smile vanishing from my face. His deep set eyes squinted, I could see the cogs turning in his head, as his perfectly balanced brows came together in confusion.

“I was interrogating the Deviant…” His head cocked up, now aware of where he was. His eyes creased when he saw the empty chair, “It was opposite me and I…”. Words failed him, his mouth opening and closing as his eyes started to glaze over.

“Connor?” I craned my neck down as his chin met his chest. He stiffened,

“I can’t remember.” He said quietly, as I felt a stab of something like sympathy in my chest before it was washed away by a wave of irritation. 

“When you connected with the Deviant you crashed,” I bit the inside of my cheek hard. “Something happened that caused your systems to fail.” I paced back and forth, “did you send a crash report before that happened?” 

“Yes, but it’ll be several hours before I receive an analysis.” His eyes darted to the door, “Where’s the Deviant?”

“Being pulled apart as we speak,” said Hank, looking at Connor with a mixture of dislike and trepidation, his beady eyes searching him. 

“Connor’s fully functional, there was no serious damage…but it did something to him.” I said, standing up. “I’m gonna go supervise the Deviant, Chris, help him get up.” Chris nodded, 

“Sure.” He replied with a pasted on smile, moving to place an arm under Connor’s shoulder. “Up you get.”

“Officer Miller, my diagnostics state that I am fine.”

“Well, your body says differently.” He replied as Connor did a fine impression of bambi on ice as he tried to stand. 

 

*

I lumbered down the hall in my heavy boots, the ends of my trench coat whipping at my feet. I jogged to catch up with the gurney, Estra’s pallid face coming into view. Someone had shut her down, her eyes closed as if she were asleep. 

“Any idea what she did to our one?” an officer said to me. I ran a hand through my loose coils, I had no fucking clue.

“It could have been a virus activated under specific circumstances, system corruption...” We reached the elevator doors down to the basement lab, “someone could even be using the Deviant as a hacking proxy, miles away.” 

The doors opened and two lab technicians strolled towards us, one taller than the other, masks pulled over their noses and mouths. 

“Morning,” the bigger one said, his voice akin to gravel. 

“Morning.” I replied, as the other pulled out a clipboard, passing it to me.

“We got calls about a Deviant recovery gone wrong?” He said, slouching against the trolley. 

“Very wrong.” I corrected, signing the declaration at the bottom, “thanks.” 

“I can’t believe a government bot could be hacked so easily.” He snorted, “It’s a little embarrassing.” I picked at my hangnails with my fingers. 

“We don’t know if it’s that for sure, but it’s not out of the ball-park in terms of possibilities.” I shrugged, “Let’s hope we can get something out of this mess.” 

“We’ll try our best,” the man replied cheerfully, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. With a rattle they pulled her into the elevator, both giving a small wave as the doors pulled shut. I let out a sigh of relief, knowing I’d never have to see that bot again. I saw Hank at the end of the hall.

“Captain blow-out wants to see you.” He said flatly. Oh, I slapped a hand to my face.

“He’s gonna bust my ass about nearly blowing up a brand new android isn’t he?” Hank shrugged half-heartedly,

“Good luck.” 

“Ugh, his second day on the job and he probably got himself some Hooker code.”

“Some what?”

“Hooker code: Code that is problematic and causes application instability.” I explained with a strained smile. 

“Oh.” I froze after those words came out of my mouth, something was wrong. It came together slowly in my mind, stray pieces of logic gradually coming together like a jigsaw. 

“One of the technicians earlier…said that Connor had been hacked.” 

“So?” 

“This just happened, and they didn’t even see it.” Hank straightened up from his slouched posture, “Why would they say that, how would they even know that’s what happened?”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I paused, my brows pinched.

“Yeah, I am. Something’s wrong.” I said. Hank walked briskly to Chris’s desk, yanking the phone out of his hand mid call.

“Hey!” Chris exclaimed, giving Hank a bemused expression. I looked across to see Connor sitting politely in the chair opposite my computer, his hands folded nearly in his lap, a picture of civility. 

“This is important.” Hank grunted. He punched a button on the dial-pad with a thick finger. “This is lieutenant Anderson, I’m calling about an android we just delivered to you a few minutes ago.” My lips twitched, my instincts growling in the pit of my stomach. My mind flashed to the expression he’d held just minutes ago. How his screaming eyes had peeked out from beneath her claw, calling for help. It’d been so convincing, you could almost believe androids could feel pain. 

 

There was a tinny murmur from the other side of the phone. “I don’t know the serial but it was female, blonde hair, half its body missing.” His face fell as he listened to the response. “Oh fuck.” 

I didn’t wait for him to finish the call. I sprinted outside to the parking lot the other side of the precinct, my lungs burning. The air whipped through my bouncy hair, if I was stealing a droid, I’d use a van. My heart sank as I saw five Cyberlife vans in the same lot, several pulling out all at once in different directions. It was a game of chance now, and I had to choose. 

“Hey, stop!” I stepped in front of a van about to pull out into the road, it slammed to a halt, tires screeching on the tarmac. Someone on the inside honked at me as I whipped out my badge, “Open the back, now!” I thudded my palm on the driver window. 

“What’s the big idea?” Said the driver as he got out, “I’m on the clock he-”

“Just open it.” I cut him off. He yanked open the back doors to reveal dozens of cardboard boxes. “Shit.” My feet pounded the ground, I only had time to get one more. One was driving fast towards the back entrance, directly in my path. If I just ran fast enough…

I managed to catch up with it, waving and getting the drivers attention. They turned around, and I recognized the green eyes staring back at me. “STOP THE CAR!” I yelled, pulling out my gun. Its engine revved to life as it sped forward even faster, about to get away. I took a snapshot of the license plate in my mind, as recoil thudded through my wrist like a punch. Shit, I’d missed. It had nearly reached the back road, I only had one more chance,

Bang. “FUCK!” the bullet ricocheted off the doors. 

It turned the corner, gone. 

*

“With respect sir, I think this is a bad idea.”

“He’s proven himself useful as a tool.” Said captain Fowler, folding his arms. I dragged my stubby fingernails through my now wind-swept hair. 

“Did you not see what happened in that room? What if he’s leaked the personal information of DPD officers? Addresses, phone numbers, the schools their kids go to.” Connor was sitting right next to me, but I barreled on, because boy did I not give a shit after what had just happened.

“That information is highly encrypted, you know that.” Fowler replied gruffly, coming to sit on top of his desk. 

“Captain Fowler is correct,” Connor began, discreetly wiping away a stray spot of blue from his nose. “It is highly unlikely that they were able to acquire that specific information in such a short span of time.” I turned away from him,

“that’s not the point.” I gestured jerkily towards Connor, “he’s a liability,” 

“Deviants are highly unpredictable, and up until that point he was succeeding. He was the only one who made it talk. That’s what we need.” He replied, his tone stern. I felt myself heating up, my breaths getting caught in my throat. 

“What if he’s been hacked, and shoots me the first chance he gets? Did ya think about that?” That caught Fowler’s attention, his eyes flitting up and down Connor for a moment.

“Christine had a preliminary look at my brain and she found nothing hazardous,” Connor interjected, turning to me with a passive expression. Fowler ran his thumb over his lip, watching him. “It was most likely a transfer of corrupted files. I assure you detective, I would never hurt you.” He placed his hands on top of the arm rest, I felt his eyes never leave my face. I shifted uncomfortably, my chest feeling tight. You would never hurt me, unless it suited you to. 

“He’s only been in service for two days?” I clapped my hands together, “he was practically bleeding out ten minutes ago, it’s been made evident that androids aren’t suited to this kind of job.”

“From the reports I’ve read, he’s flourished in this environment so far.” In my peripheral I saw Connor sitting with his hands folded neatly in his lap. “Speeding up the processing of evidence to an incredibly impressive degree.” His chin up almost as if he felt a sense of pride. I squeezed my lips together, “It’s clear from how quickly he was able to catch the Deviant in the first place that his combat training is sound.” I started to tap my foot restlessly, he was right, but I didn’t have to be happy about it. “The only reason he’s assigned to you is because of your extensive experience in robotics, otherwise I’d give him to Hank so I wouldn’t have to deal with constant back-chat.”

“I apologise sir.” I said through gritted teeth. I wasn’t going to bring up how much the department was probably getting for hosting this field test for the government. I also wasn’t going to mention, how Fowler didn’t think I was going to clock on to how moist Connor probably makes every army commander within the nearest fifty miles. I could smell Uncle Joe’s dollar bills from here.

“He’s your partner indefinitely.” He said, sitting back into his chair with an air of finality. “As for what we do now the Deviant’s been stolen.” I sunk into my chair, feeling uncharacteristically ashamed. “We’re run the license plate of the van,” I perked up, “it’s fake. If they pass any more street cameras we should be able to find them fast.” My heart sank. You can go now.” 

*

From the manner in which detective Jones was glaring in my direction, it was quite possible they were angry at me. I scanned their body, observing the way their nails dug into their palms. Instead of heading back to their desk as I assumed they would, I followed them outside to the dumpsters, the wind flapping my tie over my shoulder. I became concerned when they began to kick stray garbage with a certain vigour.

“Is anything wrong Detective?” Their head snapped around, eyes seeming to protrude from their head.

“Yes Connor, something is wrong.” They replied, drawing in a slow steady breath. “I’m pissed.” They continued to kick the trash, grunting as they punted a can and bounced it off the wall.

“Studies have shown opening up about negative emotions can lessen them.” I said, making my tone as pleasing as possible. They persisted with the juvenile behavior, until they pressed their hands against their knees, panting with exertion. 

“I’m mad because a droid was stolen right under my fuckin nose.” They kicked the dumpster and it echoed with a dull thud, “like an idiot.”

“You couldn’t have known.” They marched up to me, face taught as a bow-string. 

“It’s my JOB to know Connor.” They sighed, “That android has hurt people, and will continue to hurt people. If I had kept my eyes open-”

“There’s no point in beating yourself up, it accomplishes nothing.” I said sternly, my voice tight. “We will catch the Deviant again,” I grabbed my tie, slotting it back into place. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to restore your faith in me Detective, you can count on me.” Jones straightened up, their eyes burning. “I always accomplish my mission.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a gap between posts but I'm so so happy with this chapter, I've been dying to write these scenes for WEEKS now, but only allowed myself to after doing the proper planning.
> 
> Please enjoy, and thank-you for reading! :)


	9. Awakening

“Can you crack it?” I said, popping some gum into my mouth.

“Given enough time, sure.” Said Christine, tapping her long nails on the desk. I had no idea how she typed with those. Blocky pieces of tech covered the surface, and she smacked her lips together as she plugged the last chunky cable into Ortiz’s laptop. She slid forward, cracking her neck before beginning to write what looked like a tapestry of code.

“It’ll be a few hours, but,” she smiled sweetly, “if I have some coke and a kit kat I might get it done faster.” I squinted playfully at her,

“Alright, cus I owe you one.” I said, shaking my head.

“Thank-you!” She crooned, fluttering her false eyelashes. In an instant her head had snapped back to the screen, her eyes now glazed over. I knew that look, a meteor could land behind her now and she wouldn’t have noticed. We found a set of well hidden, heavily encrypted files on Ortiz’s laptop. So, hopefully we would find something.

A few hours later, we struck gold.

“Chris you’re a demon.” I smirked, my hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up at me, her bloodshot eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thanks.” She opened the folder, “it’s client lists,” drop-off details, shipment timetables.” My brow pinched,

“Ortiz had a whole enterprise,” I frowned, “can you forward me all of this?” She depressed a single key on the keyboard.

“Already done, and, there’s one client here that’s going to make you shit your pants.” She said, the West Coast twang in her voice thick.

“Who?” I said, leaning in, my eyebrow rising.

“The manager of the Eden club - Viktor Valentine.”

*

I crunched together a paper ball in my fist, throwing it into the trash next to the rest.

“He’ll make sure we can’t come within two miles of the club, once he knows we’re coming.” I grunted, pinching my lips together. I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Valentine, king of Detroit’s red light district. Of course he legally changed his last name to something that tacky. He’d come in here a few times, when they could get him charged with something. He was a dog of the underworld, you could smell it reeking from his Givenchy suit.

“How? He’s a suspect, it’s perfectly legal for us to question him.” Said Connor, his held tilting slightly to the left.

“Because he’s an asshole.” I replied, resting my hand on my cheek, Connor opened his mouth to speak. “An asshole with lots of money.”

“I see.” He said, holding his chin. I sighed, slouching into my chair. We couldn’t pass this up, but I knew how fucking difficult it was going to be if we just waltzed up to the place. Chris broke the silence by opening a bag of chips, I gave her a stare and she stopped, her cheeks full.

“I bet he knows something about that android, what did it call itself?” I said.

“Emphur-” Chris muffled, she swallowed noisily, “Estra.” Connor looked at Chris for a moment, his eyes narrowing in what looked like frustration. The reports had come back, stating that he was just dandy, but he still remembered nothing. It was almost funny, a being made to have a perfect, incorruptible memory having just as much trouble as the rest of us. I snapped my fingers,

“That was it. I just fuckin know he had something to do with that, there are shipments from Ortiz to the club dating back months.”

“Do we know what he sold to him?” Connor said,

“No, the details are in some kind of short hand,” Chris impaled a Dorito on her stiletto nail, “a code that I couldn’t find written down anywhere.” She popped it into her mouth, narrowing her eyes. After a moment they widened, “I know how you can get in.” She said excitedly,

“How?” Connor and I both said in unison, eyes flitting to each other.

“You should go undercover!” I rolled my eyes,

“Chris.”

“You’ve done it before, I heard a few years ago you even got initiated into the Ghosts.”

“CHRISTINE.”

“This,” She said, pointing at me, “will be a piece of cake for you.” The idea had sounded silly at first, but the more I rolled it around in my mind, the less crazy it seemed.

“If he’s buying and selling Deviants and red ice, it’d be an effective way to know.” Connor said, nodding approvingly.

“Yeah,” I waved my hands, “but I can’t just walk in there and demand some illegal shit. We don’t have the time, it would take weeks, even months of work to build up that trust-”

“Not if I give you a fake identity, as an,” Chris waggled her brows suggestively, “android connoisseur.” she finished. She let out a smug smile, her eyes darting to Connor for a second.

“Are you suggesting?” My inflection rose,

“You take him as your pet, and they wont bat an eyelid.” I leaned back,

“Pet?” Connor muttered to himself, looking into the distance.

“Freaky rich people do it all the time, I saw a vice documentary on it.” She said, a look in her eyes that bore no good fortune for me.

“Absolutely not,” I growled, totally not already imagining what that would look like.

“He could be your back-up too,-”

“I’m not entertaining this.”

“I think it’s a good idea Detective.” Connor chimed in, “Christine's plan has an 85% chance of success. Don’t let your embarrassment at such a proposal hinder you professionally.” I grew hot under my shirt, thinking about how he’d look under those neon lights. I tried my best not to glare at him and punch him in his stupid android face.

“Prove it to me.” I said suddenly, dragging my chair towards him.

“I don't understand, please explain further.” If he wanted to play, then let’s play.

“That you can blend in with that crowd.” I yanked the draw of my desk and pulled out my favorite pen. His eyes followed my fingers intently, with complete focus. “Convince me to give you this.” There was only one true answer to this question, if he wanted to be my ‘perfect partner’. I waited, staring into his blue eyes. He moved forward, gaze wandering between me and it.

“Detective Jones, may I have that pen for a moment?”  
*

I saw Detective Jones’s mouth twitch slightly,

“Why? I don’t want to give it to you.” They replied flippantly, slouching and spinning it between their fingers. There were infinite methodologies to apply to this situation, the pen slowed, levitating in the air as I considered them. I would start with the simplest, common courtesy.

“Detective, I would really appreciate it.” I said, giving them my warmest smile.

“Eh-eh, wrong answer, try again.” Said Jones, upper lip pulling back to give me a glimpse of their canine. Chris watched us with a keen interest, trying her best not to make crinkling noises. Intimidation certainly wasn’t what they were looking for, no, if I was to appear inconspicuous amongst androids with one specific purpose. There was only one option.

To entertain.

I stood up and walked across the office, sliding off my tie in one fluid motion. I undid several buttons on my shirt, heading back to their desk as if it were the first time. If I was to be a host, so I would be. A most effective one.

“Hello, my name’s Connor.” I said, lowering the pitch of my voice. As an android designed for police work, I was created to sound helpful and delicate to human ears. I had to change that. I ironed out the creases in my timbre, creating a smooth, warm sound. I held out my hand to them, “I wanted to come over and say hi.” I said slowly, seeing their golden brown eyes flicker back at mine. Jones scrutinized the newly exposed skin of my chest, I tried my best not to smirk.

They shook my hand as their tongue darted out to touch their bottom lip. They sat up straight, eyes fiery with a sense of expectation. “Can I?” I began, looking at the chair I’d just been in. Jones gestured with their head,

“Sure.” They said, placing their elbows on the desk and clasping their hands together. It seemed they were playing along, understanding the manner of my advances.

“What’s your name?”

“Aseena.”

“Lovely to meet you, Aseena.” I moved forward in my seat slightly, closing the proximity between us. “I haven’t seen you around here before.” The sounds of the precinct grew quieter, as our faces moved closer together.

“Well I’m just…trying new things.”

“I hope I’m to your-,” I removed my jacket, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt, “satisfaction.” I chuckled, arching my brow. Aseena whistled, biting their lip to suppress a grin. “Your name, it’s African isn’t it?” They hesitated, 

“Nice catch.” They said, jerking their head back. "It means ‘protector’.”

“And what are you protecting?”

“I work in the police force, so, a lot of people.”

“So you could pin me to the ground if you wanted, interesting.” Aseena let out a bark of laughter.

“Yeah, I could, if you’re doing bad things.” They said huskily. Fascinating.

I stretched upwards, bending my lower spine to create an arch. This in turn would expose more of my skin, and sure enough I felt the weight of Aseena’s eyes on me. I had skimmed through dozens of studies that had inferred that this type of behavior was sexually appealing to humans. I had to be completely convincing, if I was to accomplish my mission.

“Confident, I see.” I said.

“You disagree?”

“Perhaps, or maybe I’m just trying to get on your nerves.” I replied. They snickered, running a thumb across their lip. They’d touched their lips and throat three times in total across the span of several minutes.

“Well, it’s working.” They said, their cat-like eyes narrowing in not necessarily a disapproving manner.

“Fortune favors the bold.” The pace of our repartee quickened,

“and there’s a thin line between bravery and stupidity.” Aseena retorted, smirking.

“If I’ve demonstrated the latter, you can always punish me.” I replied, folding my hands behind my head. They snorted, shaking their head a little. I cut in as they were about to speak, “I’ll tell you what.” I said, sliding a paper pad from across the desk. “I have to go, but if you’ve decided that I need a spanking.” Chris violently choked in the background. “I’ll tell you what time I’m here tomorrow, and you can come find me.” I held out my fingers towards them, watching them let out a tentative smile. 

“Do you have a pen?”

 

*

“He’s good!” Chris exclaimed, flapping her hands. “He’s SO good!”

“Not bad.” I said, running my tongue across my teeth. “Alright, you can be my backup.” A slow smile broke out across Connor’s face, his features relaxing as he pulled back into his usual icy demeanor. Just like that, the flirty bravado was gone, consumed by the shark, as if it had never been there in the first place. A chill passed down my spine, mission accomplished.

“When do we start?”

Back in the day, stings took weeks, even months to plan I’d been told. For us it had only been days. Enough time for Christine to create a digital footprint on the dark web, and to get approval from Fowler. I was now Mathe Falorsi, a purveyor and collector of androids of a certain…disposition. I was here on a pleasure related trip from outside of the country, and I was a millionaire looking to splash some cash.

The air was cold and thick in my lungs, it was 10PM. The darkness of the night was absolute, it was hard to even find a sliver of the moon in the sky. We made our way down Michigan Avenue on the Southwest side, Connor right next to me. He trailed just a little bit behind me to demonstrate his status, as my newest digital concubine. He had donned a designer suit without the tags and labels of his model, a pitch black number reminiscent of a 1920’s American gangster. Since he was a prototype, he looked especially human from a distance, so the brightness of his eyes and LED were turned up to the max. I myself also wore a fitted suit, much smarter than my regular police garb. All of my protective talismans had been stripped from me, my badge, my gun. It was a sensation I hadn’t experienced in a long time, I felt naked before we’d even gotten to the brothel.

I turned, Connor’s eyes and temple a beacon of light, a reminder of what we’d come to do. A cacophony of neon and white street lights mixed together like a soup above me, filling my head with a familiar sense of intoxicating dizziness. Everything here was made to overwhelm the senses, to frazzle you out like an overblown socket. It wasn’t uncommon for people to wake up in the daylight here with no money, no clothes, and no memory of what they’d done, and to whom.

Not that I would know anything about that.

The Eden club was impossible to miss, the literal landmark of sin that it was. Huge, vegas-esque signs of neon sprawled up the five story building like splashes of paint. ‘Dance-club’, ‘Android fun-house’ ‘Live, nude robots’. A digital drawing of a woman orgasming decorated the sign above the door. She was on her knees tearing off the skin of her breasts like a corset, to reveal circuitry and wires underneath. I saw the queue for the entrance run as far as around the block. I took out my fake ID, putting the most swagger I could into my walk.

“Follow my lead,” I muttered under my breath to Connor, “when we get inside, be social with the other droids, otherwise they’ll know some-thing’s up.” He nodded.

The bouncers spotted us metres away.

“Hello! Good evening,”

“and welcome to the Eden club,”

“you ready to have a good time?” Two anime girls with massively over sized heads accosted me as I stepped onto the red carpet, their voices a perfect moaning falsetto.

“Mathe Falorsi, I’m on the VIP guest list.” One of them blinked at me with her bulging, glittery eyes.

“Let me see…” She squealed, pressing her gigantic holographic cleavage together. She rapidly skimmed through a projected scroll, aggressively bending at the waist. These bouncers were a deterrent for the vanilla and tee-totaler, if you couldn’t handle this weird shit, this place would treat you like a blender. “OH, you are! Hello, Mr.Falorsi.” She said, rubbing her lace covered hands over my lapels, her touch pure static. “Please, come in.” Her fluffy hair glitched as she turned, the door opening to a wall of sound, the booming roar of future bass.

Here we go.

We passed the thresh-hold, a pink light emanating from the floor, giving our skin a rosy glow. Swarms of bodies danced and jumped in formation before us, as the scent of booze and musk hit my nose like a freight train. It made my nose crinkle with its silent promise of exhilarating excess, the smell taking me back years. I felt the music ripple through my toes as its vibrations made its way through my body. I looked up, silver go-go dancers twirled away on aerial hoops and in cages. Whether they were human or robot was impossible to tell, as the lights began to flash.

I felt Connor’s hand in mine as he leaned in close to my ear.

“Let’s go…master.” He said. I smiled, this could be interesting. A hostess in uniform waved us towards some adjacent stairs, and the floor began to shift into an inky black marble. The noise died away a little as we made our way higher and higher, a sea of blue washing over our bodies. Tables lit like jellyfish held ice cold bottles of champagne and prosecco, surrounded by chic velvet sofas where people lay talking. We had the primo view of the dance-floor, the same height as the dancers, they were almost close enough to touch across the balcony.

“I’d like to head straight inside.” I said, and she nodded hurriedly. She opened a door in the wall that led us down a spiraling staircase, the rumble of the club gradually disappearing behind us. She handed me a commedia dell’arte mask, and waited before I pulled it over my head. She pulled away a red velvet curtain, letting us through, and disappeared.

“I’m SO glad you could join us this evening!”

A bombardment of visual stimuli hit my senses. First of all was a kaleidescope of light that ignited everything it touched. Crimson, orange, gold, pink in all different corners of the place. A mermaid covered head to toe in LEDs was swathed in turquoise above us, her tail undulating as she crawled down her tank to blow bubbles against the glass. In front of me was a catwalk, beside which on each side had every fetish imaginable. To look at them all would have taken hours.

An orgy of androids dressed as a Greek chorus was just a few feet away, so close together they could have been a pile of limbs with faces. Across I could see a set of stages with impossibly bendy beings dancing on 16ft high poles, Dozens of robots of every race, gender, size and appeal meandered carefully back and forth between customers. Men, women and everyone in between, all wearing masks and lying languidly across chaise lounges.

Before us stood a black, genderless Marilyn Monroe, their face an extraordinary recreation of the icon herself. They thrusted out their flat chest, complete with diamante pasties, as their gloved hands gestured to the rest of the room. “From another continent no less, what can I get for you today mon ami?”

I straightened up, adjusting my jacket as I purveyed the selection on offer. I strolled through the center of the aisle with my hand in my pockets, snapping my fingers to get Connor to follow me. The soundtrack from this place was enough to give a priest an aneurysm. A surround sound of laughter, heavy breathing and the clinking of glasses buzzed around my head.

I looked at Connor, nodding my head as a queue for him to wander into the crowd. His skin was vampire pale as he straightened his tie and walked forward, letting himself be touched by three half-naked Valkyries.

A beautiful black haired woman strolled towards me, barefoot as she guided me to a chair. As her legs swung above my head I said,

“this all seems a little…pedestrian.” I gently touched her ankle to stop her, Marilyn’s slanted eyes assessed me for a moment.

“Follow me darling.” They said, politely pointing towards the end of the room.

*

This mission had been an interesting one so far. I was equipped for combat, for confrontation and analysis.

I suppose this was just a different form of that. Their metal helmets glinted as they began to run their hands across my body. Maybe one of these creatures would know about any of Valentine’s activities after all. I heard Aseena’s voice behind me as I reached out to touch one of their faces, gently closing my eyes to probe their memories.

My brow pinched, hours and hours of sex, several appearances of Valentine walking around, but no cigar. I felt a gentle puff of air as one of them flapped its purple wings, undoing several of my shirt buttons with a practiced technique. She took her hands away suddenly to draw a delicate pattern on her friend’s shoulder. Pale blue spots of light lit up under the skin as he groaned, what I assumed were his pleasure sensors had just been turned up to the max.

Another reached behind me to help take off my jacket, smiling into my ear. Upon contact with my chest, I began to download foreign software. My false breathing hitched, I was now immediately aware of every inch of my body. My skin burned like it was on fire, but I felt no alarm. I was bathed in physical hyper-sensitivity. I was experiencing an ache.

One that I wanted dealt with.

I trembled as more of them stared into my eyes, laying their hands on me as they grinned pleasantly. This code was a new update for Cyberlife pleasure models, one these androids had seen fit to equip me with.

I breathed out harder as more of my form began to be exposed. I sensed every connection as electricity, but there was no current. The sounds of fabric being removed drifted to the back of my mind as a blue haze of light descended on us. My mouth parted as alien sensations sent my programs into override. This should have concerned me,

but I didn’t stop. I felt the far away sensation of movement, I had an objective.

Someone placed their warm, soft lips over mine.

What was the mission.

A line of spit ran down the corner of my mouth.

Mission.

This, everything, was so…interesting. Somewhere in the distance I knew sounds were coming from me, but I was engaged in the molten hot feeling of a tongue caressing itself against mine. My sub-program had been temporarily banished as I explored the inside of this mouth.

A familiar hand entwined itself around my wrist.

“Connor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah boi! Some spicy stuff for ya! This chapter was a JOY to write you have no idea.
> 
> Thank-you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> 'I want to thank you and spank you upon your silver skin  
> Robots don't care where I've been  
> You've got to choose it to use it, so let me plug it in  
> Robots are my next of kin.'
> 
>  
> 
> The world of DBH was incredibly inspiring to me, and I feel like it missed a beat by not exploring certain themes/concepts. Extreme canon divergence, major world and plot changes ahead. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I watched dozens of hostage movies and read the police handbook as research lol. Also yes, the title is the red hot chilli peppers song 'Go Robot', I thought it was appropriate for Connor, HAH. 
> 
> I'm updating this regularly, most likely every few days, as I'm a perfectionist and like to have it beta'd heavily first.  
> 


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